


Night Shift

by Oddly_Wandering



Category: RWBY
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, F/F, F/M, I'm a leaf on the wind baby, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oddly_Wandering/pseuds/Oddly_Wandering
Summary: Ruby always wanted to return to space, ever since her family had grounded on Patch. It would be years before she finally got her chance, courtesy of a job offer from her sister: Security aboard a freelance vessel. Exploring dead ships, taking on risky contracts, star-hopping across known space and beyond; flying free in the deep reaches of the night. Leave your expectations planetside, because the universe is vast, unpredictable, and indifferent. No matter how much you prepare, how many missions you've run, how long you've been treading starlight, remember: It will always find a way to surprise you.There's never any such thing as an ordinary run, because every job is different. Ruby couldn't have predicted how true that maxim would ring.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	1. Sky Burial

**Author's Note:**

> I had a longer-form story in mind, but there were a couple of issues: One, a part of me wanted to include elements that felt too at odds, variety notwithstanding. That idea forms the bulk of this story. Along with some other choice bits of inspiration. Two, I’m still working out the details, minute and overarching. So, this is the result. Also, a tidbit of exposition that wouldn’t flow well randomly smashed into the narrative: Ruby is 22, and following the general canon pattern the others are roughly 24. Wanted to clear that up. Bang, bing, boom. Please, enjoy.

_The quarternary code gave mankind a rose_

_So we could see the beautiful die_

_Strange piece of storm hovers over crops_

_In a child's face aglow before the scythe_

\- from “Harvest” by Nightwish

|***|

The apogee of breaching, right before the ship crested between spaces, was stirring. It was like your bones had all been compressed to the marrow, and your skin was sure it should be melting. Like white noise you could _feel_ ; morosely uncomfortable, buzzing inside your flesh. A penetrating wrongness, but that was dimensional travel in a nutshell. Then a rush, and glittering infinity exploded into view, resonance of the breach cascading violently. Ruby shivered, watching the expanding shock wave; a vivid silvery cloud, that spacers called blow, rolled out from the ship. Rushing, reaching; dissipating tendrils of energy. Gone. Absorbed by the alien vacuum.

The main thrusters kicked on – a more natural, comforting background thrumming than the bone-tenderizing effect of diving – and the boat accelerated. Maneuvering thrusters made adjustments as their course led ‘up’ at a starboard angle. Fluid and graceful, everything running like clockwork. Every component and system working in tandem flawlessly. Like instinct. Like breathing. The ship flew, or swam, or whatever metaphor you wanted to use. Machinery mimicking the organic functionality of life.

Through the canopy one could view the expanse of the cosmos enveloping them. The vast, utter, and total womb of stars and planets and life itself. From distant glistening points to the abiding prominence of the Vytal nebula: A watercolor pillar of vivid glacial white ensconced in wispy coral and entrancing vermilion. All fringed with smokey streaks and coiling veins of black, like the abyss of space was reaching out to swallow the brilliant colors.

Out here was home. This was _really_ home. Soaring through heaven, with only the hull between them and creation’s endless embrace. Mesmerizing; able to awe, daunt, and mollify in equal magnitude. It was simultaneously arcane and anchoring. The great, humbling immensity. They were not even fish in the sea. They were the microbes. The bacterial extremophiles latching onto life in an environment so tremendously colossal as to be wholly heedless of their presence. Chance things creeping between motes of habitation. The grandeur of _being_.

Spacers were, and always had been, accepting of this. It was what made them.. well, _them_. Gave them a distinction from ‘fair-weather’ sailors and the rest that spent the majority of their lives planetside. Something about making the vacuum your home had enduring ramifications on the psyche. Over successive generations, that grew into culture. Into mores. A society-beside. Part, but apart. A breed of people who, in mind though not in body, were predisposed to dwelling out among the stars.

Ruby smiled, and clapped their pilot on the shoulder.

“Uh – ow?” The blonde noodle flinched, throwing a confused glance over his shoulder.

“We didn’t die, good job!” She bumped her shoulder to his, much softer this time.

“Right,” Jaune deadpanned. “You know, I really _don’t_ need the company every time we dive, Ruby.” He sounded annoyed, but it was a _Jaune_ kind of annoyed. Like when a kid insisted on finally doing their chores unsupervised.

“If it makes you feel any better, I like watching it all.” Ruby mimed a boat figuratively ‘diving’, with lots of finger-waggling included for extra flair. “’Sides, _I’d_ get a little crazy cooped up all alone in the saddle the whole trip.” Silver eyes darted around the shared space. The saddle – bridge, cockpit, whatever you wanted to call it – wasn’t made to accommodate lots of people. It was functional. That meant ‘cozy’ if you were feeling optimistic, or ‘cramped’ for anyone who detested confined spaces. The stations were accommodating, but there was not a lot of room around them. Ruby was currently stood in one of the narrow aisles set either side of the bridge, leaving the other open in case anyone else needed through. In an emergency she could always duck right behind the pilot’s seat to clear both ways.

Also, the last time she got caught sitting at the copilot’s seat behind them, or the weapons station ahead, it landed her a scolding. She wasn’t exactly trained to man either of those tasks, so if something had happened, blah-blah…

She shuddered, shaking off the mortification.

“Yang’s not here,” Jaune coolly informed.

Ruby blinked. “I- gah- what?”

His eyes darted from her to the copilot’s seat. “You were staring at it, and looking like you tasted something sour.” He smirked.

She stammered. “Wha- Y- I was not!”

“Yes you were.” Jaune’s eyes were lit with a mischievous glint.

“Can’t prove it,” she stuck her tongue out.

“Looked kinda like this.” He narrowed his eyes and puckered his lips. “Real flattering, by the way.”

Ruby’s eye twitched. “You sure that isn’t the face girls m-”

“Ooh, sounds like I struck a nerve,” the blonde flashed an impish grin.

“’Kay. Remember, you declared war first,” she jabbed an accusing finger at him.

Jaune blinked, taken aback. “I did wha- ow!”

Ruby pinched his ear.

His elbow jerked back.

She skirted aside, reaching around for the other ear.

“I’d rather not die because the pilot was letting himself get distracted,” came a voice that, while calm, was edged with a faint note of admonishment. The sort of tone that said you should feel guilty, without having to _directly_ reprimand you.

Ruby hopped away, planting her back to the bulkhead. “Hey, bosun,” she waved, face pink.

Ren arched a brow, steely gaze peering through into her soul. Then, in a beat, it was gone, and he was back to his even-tempered amenability. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Ah-ha,” Ruby idly scratched her cheek. “Sorry, I wasn’t-

Ren shook his head, black hair dancing languidly. His whole being seemed insouciant. “Don’t worry. Think of it as a reminder.”

“Trust me,” Ruby laid a hand over her chest, “I didn’t pester him ‘til we breached. I’m not _that_ stupid.”

The self-deprecating confession drew a perplexed sideways glance from the pilot.

Ren arched a brow. “Intimating you’re at least.. a _little_ stupid?” He asked, equally caught off guard as Jaune.

She held her thumb and forefinger a hair apart, laughing softly. “Bitty-bit,” she winked.

Ren chuckled – which is to say he exhaled a bit louder than usual – and flicked his attention to their captain. “Timetable?”

Jaune adjusted himself, probably still trying to mask his own embarrassment at getting caught in the middle of fooling around. “Nearly there. Timed the breach so we’d be close. I’d say,” he marked their heading, scanned the radar, “Eight minutes. Big object on scans, dead ahead.”

Ruby slipped out, hearing the beginning of Ren’s question: “Do you want to inform-”

The passageway outside was angled down and narrow enough for two people two pass shoulder-to-shoulder. It opened up into the mess – galley and dining squashed together, no partition. It was a warm compartment, metaphorically. It felt homey; lived in. Real wood tables and chairs atop a brightly colored rug. Racks of pots, pans, kettles, and other cooking utensils. The lighting was always set to a more _orange_ -ish hue, like the pinnacle of sunset, just before the sunlight bled to night. One wall was blanketed in pictures: The crew celebrating, picnicking atop the ship, relaxing at a bath, a wrestling match in the hold, Jaune tied up and hung from the overhead in the commons, and so many more.

Ruby smiled, but behind her lips her teeth were grit. There was a twisting, tightening, _clawing_ sensation in her gut and she was doing her best to hide it. The ship’s twidget – that’s to say, engineer – Nora, was sat at the main dining table, feet up and humming away as she flicked a finger across her scroll’s screen. Ordinarily Ruby might have stopped to say something, but her feet carried her on. Past the bulkhead dividing the mess from the commons, taking an immediate left down a ladder to the deck below.

The _J_ _uniper_ was laid out as such: The saddle led into the mess, led into the commons. The latter contained the crew quarters, head, and showers. This was the ‘upper’ deck. The main deck, just below, housed the real innards of the ship. Provision store, medical, the armory, workshop, water and waste treatment, and power plant – reactors were affectionately nicknamed ‘the Bomb’ by spacers, a notably _cheery_ bunch. Third deck was devoted principally to storage: The magazine, drone hangar, and finally the hold dominating the aft.

Three decks, compact as possible while providing at least a little room for the crew to stretch their legs. A little more, even, with some regulation bending. They weren’t technically supposed to use crates in the hold as an obstacle course, but those things were designed to suffer some serious punishment without hurting the goods inside. So what was a little jumping and running going to do? Besides, it would make a good workout when the haul was heavy.

Ruby still had a creep eating at her insides as she walked the passageway. Below, she could hear machinery in the drone bay coming to life, presumably prepping to launch scouts. She passed the bloodletter’s and stopped at the armory, fishing her plate out of a pocket.

‘Plate’ was just what people called IDs. A slim polymer data cartridge featuring your likeness, name, and the other standard fare of details on the face. Internally it housed a holo-disc containing the data that confirmed and expanded on the external drip of information. Everything from permanent record listings, clearances, encoded biometric tags, and much more.

Ruby went to slide her plate into the lock, only to receive a jarring _clack!_ instead of the satisfying click of the cart slotting neatly into the reader.

Heat suffused her face when she realized she’d tried inserting it upside down.

After rectifying her blunder, and receiving a chipper little electronic chirp of approval, the door cycled to let her through. The armory had windows all around as a security measure. If someone was inside, anyone could see who it was and what they were doing. The system also logged every entry, exit, and opened locker. Not that that was really an issue. Small crew, no real wildcards. Unless someone didn’t know Nora very well, but once you got past her raucous exterior she seemed really sweet.

Ruby took the time to measure her breathing while eyeing the array of arms. Rifles, pistols, and a few fiber lasers. Behind the thickest locked case was a single plasma discharger. Capricious things. Ruby had almost fainted the first time she laid eye on it – excitement and terror twining together in a blissful ballet. Plasma was dangerous, usually confined to special armaments on warships. Handheld, however? If you weren’t careful with one, you might lose a hand. Or both. Or more, if the weapon itself was little more than slack gash and overcooked in your grip. At that point it was more like you’d be holding a plasma _bomb_ then a gun. You wouldn’t feel the superheated wave as it swallowed you whole, but anyone nearby probably might.

Oh, right.. she was here for a reason.

Ruby licked her lips, which were now quite dry, and tore her gaze from the magnificently lethal firearm. Her kit was in a private locker, and mostly bespoke. Her prized weapon was an anti-material rifle that could turn even high-end reactive armor into shredded plating. Variable scope, quick-swap mags, and robust recoil compensation. The best she could.. make, anyway. No way she could afford to buy something that shiny. She was a long range powerhouse. She also.. would be sitting this one out. Odds were she would prove unwieldy where they’d be working.

The other piece was a two-note, or combination gun. Double barreled: Over for intermediate caliber, under for large. From assault to battle rifle with the push of a button. It was a tad extra, all things considered. It meant having two ammo feeds, and thus a pair of magazines at all times. One seated horizontal on the stock, the other – for the larger rounds – vertical, ahead of the trigger, the well acting as a foregrip. Unless you didn’t intend on using one of the settings. But then why even _have_ such a rifle? Someone would probably argue semantics with her, but Ruby wasn’t interested. Sure, it was a bit of a logistical nightmare for some people, but Ruby loved options, and she _might_ have gone a little overboard when designing her second baby.

Her eyes glazed over as they stared down the sights, the barrels trained on the deck. Her thoughts were a storm of worries; unbidden horrors and other visions that made her skin scrawl, or her stomach want to empty its contents. Breathing went shallow, pulse racing, skin turning clammy. Her world shrank, closing in around her as a vice, getting darker and darker. Anxiety had its claws in deep, and was beginning to _tear_.

Ruby didn’t even hear the door cycle.

“Hey, sis,” a worried, warm voice ran over her soul like sunlight.

“Oh! Hey, Yang!” She was all chipper again, or so she hoped, flashing a bright and toothy smile.

Blake had apparently come in with her sister, and nodded a greeting before moving fluidly to her own gear. Ruby didn’t know the faunus too well, despite having met her a few times before joining up. Blake was reticent; kept to herself. Ruby hadn’t even seen the woman fight – not _once_!

Her suit was solid black, with light, equally dark armor strapped atop. In fact it was so light that it nearly blended in, unless you were looking from up close or had an eye for kit. Bafflers to hide a full range of bio-signs, crumple zones in lieu of heavy plating, and impact absorption along her limbs. Her weapons matched in style: A strong, versatile pistol paired with a blade that offered two choices in one: Light and swift, or heavy and cleaving.

Ruby assumed Blake’s school of combat would be a blend of mid-range harrying, CQC, and generally being very reliant on speed and well-placed attacks. That was just what went through the girl’s mind at a glance. Her eyes soaked in detail, information rushing like a stream across her synapses, logging every little bit and piece like a kid ogling an ice cream stand with over one hundred flavors.

Ruby only watched the faunus for a moment, until Yang grabbed her – not her attention, but _literally took hold of her_.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, Ruby,” Yang looked her over, after carefully taking the rifle from her hands and laying it on a bench.

Ruby was about to protest, had her mouth open, words on her tongue and ready to go.. but swallowed them. “Y-Yeah,” she muttered, eyes downcast.

“Hey, now,” Yang stroked her hair, goading her to look back up into shining lilac. “It’s all cool. You can sit this one out, or-” She lifted a hand when it looked like Ruby was about to make good on her earlier impulsion. “ _Or_ , wait ‘til we’ve done the first sweep, then follow behind? You don’t have to jump into the deep end on the first go.” She looked aside. “Right, Blake?”

The faunus turned around the moment she heard her name, locking amber onto silver. “Being on edge is sensible, and there’s no shame in pacing yourself. Not _everything_ needs to be rushed.” The shadow of a smile touched the corner of her mouth, then she was back to tending her kit. Blake, as far as Ruby knew, kept most of her kit in her pit – spacer term for one’s quarters – with the exception of her weapons.

“See? Dark and scary agrees, it’s totally okay.” Yang cupped her cheek, the feel of hard composites in place of warm flesh a familiar sensation by now.

They ignored the indignant huff that followed the blonde’s caricature.

“You can just come over with Nora and help her out.” Her smile brightened. Ruby imagined she could _see_ the light bulb switching on in her head. “Like a bodyguard! Personal escort, eh?” The way she glowed with verve made it look like she was suggesting some sort of ritzy assignment.

Ruby rolled her eyes and hopped up onto the bench beside her rifle. “Please, Nora would probably be protecting _me_ if anything came for us. And all she’s got is her tools.”

“That,” Blake spoke up, holstering her pistol, “Would include a powered dead blow hammer and a plasma torch. Both quite effective as impromptu weapons.”

“Also that laser-drill thing,” Yang added. “Saw her take out a pirate with that once. Went all the way through their helmet in, like, four seconds.” She placed a pair of digits to her temple, twisting them around.

“Thermal auger,” Blake grimaced. “Right. I remember.” She looked between the sisters, then pointed to the door. “I’ll go ahead and meet up with Pyrrha. You two work this out before we disembark.” To her credit, she didn’t sound impatient or irritated. It was a sensible, matter-of-fact recommendation.

Now just the siblings, Ruby sighed loud and embittered. “I’ve been in fights before-”

“Yeah,” Yang cut in, leaning close, “With plenty of warning, in open spaces, and usually with lots of backup on the way. Guess what’s _not_ the same now?”

Ruby groaned, frustrated with herself _and_ the truth. Compact spaces, a small team against who knew how many hostiles. They were out here all alone. One small ship. One tiny boarding party. Even if they sent out a distress wave, help would be hours away _at best_. Realistically? Days.

It didn’t matter that the ‘who’ here was unimportant. Anyone making a mistake spelled trouble, but she wasn’t thinking about if her team screwed up. She had to worry about herself, and the impact _she_ had on _them_. They’d put Ruby through her paces on derelicts groundside, even run drills aboard the _Juniper_. Again and again until they were confident she could operate in the conditions they faced most often.

“If I don’t do this, then how can I prove I’m able to help?” Ruby asked, fists clenching.

Yang shrugged. “I already said you go slow. Join up with Nora while the three of us go ahead. We start by sweeping the closest compartments, after making sure the gangway is clear. Then we move out on a pattern. I’m on point, Pyrrha’s got my back, and Blake…” She trailed off, idly drawing circles in the air.

Ruby furrowed her brow when the silence stretched a bit too long. “What exactly _is_ Blake’s role?”

“Scouting?” Yang ventured.

Ruby snorted. “You mean she does what she thinks is best, and you two play along.”

Yang grinned. “Yup. I wanted to make it sound more professional, but this isn’t a military gig or anything, Ruby. So long as everyone does their best, we should be okay. No slack acts here. Blake’s got her own thing, but she’s a team player and that’s what matters, y’know?”

Ruby looked unimpressed. “’Should be’?”

“Well, yeah,” her sister shrugged. “Things could go wrong, but you can bet a week’s worth of straight cleanup rota that we’re gonna fight tooth and nail to keep each other safe.”

Ruby sucked in a shallow breath. Yang’s conviction was practically scorching. There was a latent anger, stirring just behind her eyes, at the idea of anyone on her crew getting hurt. A solemn promise that she would shield them from harm with her own body if she had to. With her life. Anything to keep her team safe.

Ruby couldn’t look into those eyes for too long. They carried a familiarity that drove knives into her chest. It was hard to breathe for a second. The air just didn’t want to make it into her lungs. She ducked her head, hair falling across her face as she fought to compose herself.

“Right. I’m going with you then.” Her voice shook, but her mind was made up. She hopped down, and dug her armor out.

Yang blinked, watching dumbfounded. “Uh.. what? Rubes, you d-”

“I _do_ though! I took this job to help you. _You_ and them, Yang.” She paused to send her sister a pointed look. “I’m not gonna sit on the ship and be an air-breather.” She slipped a rig over her head, locking it atop her torso.

Rigs were modular armored chassis. They offered some protection on their own, but not much. The real defense came with customization by locking armor into, and over, the frame. They were quite versatile, and everyone had a personal preference for outfitting their rig. There were also more specialized models, of course. Ruby had modded her rig, but it was originally manufactured by a company called HazGuard, one of many brands focused on protective equipment. Hers was the Tor model.

Yang’s rig was HazGuard as well, though the much heftier Mesa series. Bulkier, and boasting more connections, including weapon hardpoints. Not that they made enough to afford such luxuries. Her suit was black, like Blake’s, but the armor was bright yellow instead. She’d gone with laminar style plating: Overlapping layers, heavier and thicker from the waist up, yet not the slightest impact on mobility. A large sternum plate capped it off, complete with a prominent integrated bevor. Lots of shock absorption, kinetic dissipation, and even electric repulsion for hostiles that came too close.

Ruby pulled on the rest of her armor, piece by piece tightening over her suit until they fit snug, just like the rig. The full set was lightweight and didn’t impede movement, focusing on protecting the most important points of her body. The spacesuits they wore beneath provided some defense of their own. Insulation regulated body temperature. Supplementary padding to ward abrasion and blunt force. More work environment related, not for combat.

Yang pursed her lips. This felt like an impending headache. She didn’t know if her sister was ready for the full show yet. Not that Ruby couldn’t do it, but some slight precautions, and a little easing in, would be best. Right? She could tell Ruby was nervous, but then even _she_ got worried before a job. Was she being overprotective, using her sister’s fears to disguise her own and keep Ruby as far from danger for as long as she could? _No_ , she told herself. She had faith in Ruby.

 _Then show her_ , the voice at the back of her mind insisted.

She turned her eyes skyward, telling that voice to shut up even while begrudgingly acquiescing. If she believed in her sister, then Yang needed to prove it. She needed to actually _trust_ the girl.

“Okay,” the blonde grabbed a pair of magazines, handing them over as Ruby ran through the usual checks, making sure everything was nominal.

“I won’t learn if I put off getting in the water, Yang,” Ruby smiled, all nerves and taught energy, taking the magazines and loading her rifle. “Like back home, wrapped up in floaties while my feet could still touch the bottom,” a giggle slipped through her lips.

Yang bit back a laugh. “ _Okay_ , point taken.”

Ruby locked the rifle to a carry rail on her back then grabbed some spare ammo, mostly lighter rounds, and secured them to her rig. “All right, let’s get going. We’ve got a ship to board, right?” She didn’t even try to sound enthusiastic, but felt a strange confidence come over her. More like the numbing effect of reality settling in, she belatedly mused. Accepting the inevitable. She got herself into this, after all.

Yang jerked her head toward the door, “Let’s beat feet.” The pair set out for the port side airlock. Third deck, between the hangar and hold, nestled right in the middle of two heavy bulkheads. It wasn’t a long walk, but Ruby spent the whole time psyching herself up internally. Her silent pep talk helped a little, but that also might have been denial and not true self-confidence.

Blake was waiting for them at their destination, alongside the other member of the boarding party. Pyrrha was.. well, Ruby didn’t really think there were words that were worthy of being applied to the tall woman. She was easily one of the most skilled fighters the girl had seen in action, and knowing that both the redhead _and_ Yang were there with her sent a swell of genuine courage through her veins like lightning.

“Hello!” Pyrrha waved. Calm, friendly, and radiating something truly like power. Her armor was almost as fastidiously maintained as Blake’s; a warm bronze color over the crimson of her suit. She assumed the role of combat medic, packing the bulk of emergency supplies. While not a full-fledged doctor, she had the most experience, and training, of the crew when it came to tending the wounded. Her offensive kit was worth drooling over. A strong, versatile battle rifle together with an honest-to-gods shield and short sword, or ‘scathe’ if you were a spacer, for CQC.

Ruby had never been great with melee, whereas her sister excelled in that regard. She had a dirk locked to her thigh, just in case, but that was better suited for scraping grease from your boots than fending off an enemy. That sent a sinking feeling through her gut all over again. If she got cornered, one of _them_ would almost definitely need to make up for her shortcoming.

Blake merely nodded, saying nothing of Ruby’s compunctions. The faunus didn’t look proud that the younger girl turned to, but more importantly she wasn’t staring judgmentally.

Ruby didn’t feel like she was getting sized up as a liability. She could only hope that meant Blake was ready to let her prove herself. She returned the silent greeting, if a little awkwardly in her attempt to mirror the woman’s stoicism.

“We got a target yet?” Yang asked, shoulder propped against the bulkhead.

Pyrrha looked to her forearm, where she’d attached her scroll. “Well, Jaune?” She asked the live feed of their captain, whose tongue was poking from the corner of his mouth in concentration. Presumably his focus was on maneuvering them into position, which likely included matching the speed and rotation of a derelict ship. Not a task Ruby could begin to wrap her head around, and certainly not an enviable job. “Uhm.. he seems momentarily indisposed?”

Yang snickered at the look on his face. “Tell me you’ve got a shot of that. We should totally update his plate with it.” She sidled closer to the redhead, a conspiratorial smile on her lips.

Pyrrha laughed. “Don’t be so mean, Yang,” she chided, sounding more like a mother than a comrade-in-arms or hardened soldier.

Blake shrugged. “I dunno. I think it might be fitting. Shows he’s determined.”

Yang held out a fist, which the faunus halfheartedly bumped following a long-suffering sigh. “’Kay, Rubes, you’ve got the conn. New member of the away team and all, final vote’s officially yours!”

Pyrrha suddenly looked concerned. “Ah.. Yang, I assumed you were joking. We really shouldn’t meddle with-”

“Lighten up, Pyr!” Yang put on a wolfish grin. “Not like it’d be permanent. Besides, just think of the reaction he’d g- He’d get at-” She burst into laughter, unable to continue the longer she imagined the ensuing spectacle.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about customs agents and flight controllers not taking our captain seriously,” Pyrrha replied, expression unusually stern.

Ruby, presently, felt out of the loop. Sure, at first the joke had helped ease her nerves a hint more, but now she felt like a third wheel – or fourth, more literally. Pyrrha, Blake, and her sister had worked this job now for a few years. They were accustomed to the risks, and had grown close fighting side-by-side like brave warriors out of a vid, or one of the many books she’d practically inhaled as a kid. Here she was, joining that image, but she _wasn’t_ one of them. She was an outsider. A tag-along.

The _kid sist_ -

She threw that last thought out with a vehemence, almost frowning. She glanced at Blake, who, to her surprise, was actually watching her. It made her jump, not even having felt the discomfort one normally associates with being stared at.

Blake shook her head slowly, darting a meaningful look towards Yang. A silent ‘ignore her’ that garnered a smile at least. Blake actually smiled back this time, rather than hide it by turning away like before.

“Okay!” Jaune’s voice came, tinny, through the scroll’s speaker. “Locking in three, two-” A second later they felt a tremble. Nothing major, but the docking arm definitely contacted something. Through the porthole one could watch the gangway extend, reaching out to connect with the other vessel’s airlock. All four slipped on and secured their helmets.

Ruby’s world went compact, from her field of view to sound quality. The audio system was good, but it could never replace natural hearing. Speakers always sounded like speakers. Her eyes darted to and fro as the HUD screens booted up then linked with the other three suits to share information.

“Now we wait,” Yang informed, a bored sigh leaving her lips.

Ruby looked about. “For.. what? Making sure the gangway’s all shipshape?”

“Something like that,” the blonde grinned. “You’ll see, give it a bit.”


	2. Tower of Silence

" _Beyond the door_

_An endless void, uncertainty in view_

_Pick up the pieces - start anew_ "

\- from "Constellations" by Michael Romeo

|***|

Jaune drummed his fingers along the top of his helmet, perched at the ready on his lap. You could never be too careful, especially when dealing with derelicts.

Through the canopy he could see the bow of the dead ship stretching out into the dark. It narrowed like a bird’s beak until sloping to a stop, as if a piece had been sheared off. All sharp angles and sheer hull. It was gorgeous, but looked akin to someone stretching the blade of a sword into a starship. It was also gargantuan. Their sloop was an intermediate rate, in tonnage terms. Far from any freighter, but heavier than a ketch or clipper. The enormity of the metal corpse beside them made Jaune feel like the _Juniper_ was a parasite latched onto the body of a sea monster.

He pursed his lips, eyes flitting across the console’s terminals. Readouts, statuses, sensor reports, and more spread out before him. For most pilots – he told himself – it was all a bit much when you were just getting started, and even more daunting when the time came to get certified. By now it was all second nature. He knew what was where, when to check what, and had a pattern down. One part obsessive-compulsion, one part fundamentals.

That routine had a wrench in the works at the moment. Said ‘wrench’ was a particular screen, showing a feed from an external camera. The _Juniper_ was held in place by a docking arm, aligned so their airlock could extend and connect with the other vessel’s. Thing was, the other ship’s own umbilical was behaving.. oddly. Slowly, to be specific. It wasn’t sputtering or jittery, jerking a few inches at a time, or seizing randomly. It was.. slow, plain and simple. Reaching out with all the alacrity of a time-oppressed geriatric. A little orange docking animation played out in the corner, over and over in an incessant loop.

So far so good, everything accounted for. They had been through jobs with far rougher starts. Even if the damned umbilical didn’t secure properly, they could always improvise. Not to say he was wholly apathetic here. Jaune’s fingers were crossed that it would actually work. It made things so much easier in the long run. Plus, there was.. that one other detail…

He flexed the fingers of his other hand around the flight stick, a nervous tic that loved cropping up just on the cusp of things kicking off. Technically he could get up, stretch a bit, maybe even grab a nap, but his crew was about to disembark. That would be disrespectful, and irresponsible. Even if.. he really couldn’t do _much_ from the saddle.

That thought did not help.

He flicked to an internal feed, showing the usual three gathered, plus Ruby, prepping to disembark. Being worried was standard before any job, but now he had to contend with a new twinge of anxiety. A second wrench clanging about, if you will. The younger girl was a capable fighter, but even so... This would be the first time she’d head out on an assignment that was under his purview as captain. Part of the away team or not, he felt pressure winding around his heart, ready to constrict.

“Trust them. _Trust_ them, Arc,” he exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves with deep breaths. His whole body was tense, and he doubted he would feel any relief until the team returned from their mission. Nothing new there. He tried to busy himself by looking over the other screens. Reports from drone scans of the ship, detailing external hull integrity. Some wear, apparently, but no major breaches. Energy readings, everything was nominal, nothing unexpected. Exotic particles were white noise behind the stars, as was typical. Radar showed only the hulk and their drones. No other signatures nearby.

“Troubled, captain?” Ren spoke up.

Jaune seized, turning into a statue instantaneously. He swallowed hard, and his body relaxed – or slumped, as much as he could in the pilot’s seat. It _was_ an extremely ergonomic chair after all.

“Hey, Ren,” he wheezed through grit teeth. “Everything looking good below?” He exhaled slowly, feeling returning to his limbs.

“Everything is fine,” the other man leaned his head enough to watch the feed. “You could always accompany them, if it would ease your concerns.” He smiled. It was the barest of changes, but anyone who had known the man long enough could recognize the expression.

“I’d be dead weight,” Jaune snorted, derision saturating both tone and body language. “Besides, someone needs to have the reins. You never know, you know?” His voice came out low and strained, like he were speaking with something pressed to his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Did a part of him _want_ to go? Yes, absolutely. If only so he could be there, just in case. However, his assessment wasn’t totally inaccurate. He’d been in firefights, but experience told him he was best in a support role, and generally not great when his side was on the offensive. He buried the bones of indignity that shifted under the soil of his subconscious. He hadn’t focused on combat. His training was centered on piloting. He could always ask Yang, Pyrrha, or even Blake for advice. Impromptu training sessions.

He’d rolled that notion around dozens of times by now, but never acted on it.

When he said he’d be dead weight, Jaune really and truly believed it.

Ren gave a thoughtful “hm” and looked out the canopy. “I am a certified pilot as well,” he reminded, “And you never know. They might appreciate the company. The captain’s presence could boost morale.”

Jaune smirked. “You want me dead so you can take my spot, just admit it.” He’d like to believe Ren was being more than merely tactful.

“You caught me,” Ren raised his hands in surrender.

He opened his mouth, only for a digital chime to cut him off. The animation had ceased, replaced by a green ‘docking complete’ icon. Jaune tapped an ‘enter’ key, and a report filled the screen, line by line, generating almost too fast for the eye to see the pixels appear. “Connection’s solid. Everything checks. Huh.” He rubbed the back of his head, surprised by the news. “That’s.. different.”

Ren languidly arched a brow. “Is different.. good?”

“Yeah,” Jaune panned through the systems check. “I think so.” Green, green, green. Everything was green. No alerts, no potential problems, nothing logged that suggested the gangway was anything but good to go. “Wow.” His face lit up with a hopeful smile.

“I think I know where this is heading,” Ren stated.

Jaune leaned back, rubbing his hands together. “I’m not making breakfast tomorrow!”

|***|

Jaune came on over the comm. “Managed a handshake with the docking system. There’s power left.. well, a little. Enough to let us board. That’s something.” Ruby could hear him shifting about, fiddling with controls as he looked over sensor readouts.

“So, we’re actually clear on a gangway entry this time?” Yang asked, brow raised. “No EVA to start docking? Or spacewalk to the front door?”

“I’m sure this time!” Jaune insisted, sounding rather contrite.

Ruby assumed there must have been some.. related complications in the past. Given the fact they worked with a lot of derelicts, that was anything but surprising.

“All right, you know the drill though,” Yang ran a cursory check of her shotgun, then winked at Ruby through her visor. “Might wanna clue the newbie in.”

“Yeah,” a sigh, “If I’m wrong, I make breakfast for you all tomorrow. The good stuff.”

Ruby snorted with laughter, even if the prospect sounded _tantalizing_.

“Enough wasting time,” Blake prodded, and pulled the release lever. The inner airlock rolled open, and they moved through into the chamber. Once clear, the door shut itself behind them, followed by several heavy thuds as the seals secured.

Through the porthole in the outer airlock door, Ruby could see the dimly illuminated gangway of the other ship. The lights were on, but, like Jaune said, it didn’t look like juice was getting through the system very thoroughly. Assuming the Bomb was putting out power at all. It was possible this was sucking energy from reserve cells. That was still a good sign, it meant there were intact components. Possibly fully functional, at that. Even partial would be great. In short: It was a blessing that they hadn’t decayed or been damaged enough to stop working entirely.

The airlock went through its automated checks, mostly re-ensuring the connection was stable, before proceeding to match pressure with the other vessel’s interior. Only then did the light on the control terminal flick to green. Yang moved to the front, Blake and Pyrrha clearing the way without a word passing between them. More signs of their cohesion, their routine and instincts as partners. Technically they weren’t in any danger yet, assuming nothing went wrong with the gangway itself, but it was best to be on high alert from this moment forward.

Ruby readied her rifle. “Where do you want me?” She asked, before they took that final step.

Yang paused, and raised a finger. “Right! Good question.” The blonde looked around, holding a silent conversation with the other two women. “Ahead of Pyrrha, keep behind me,” she directed.

Pyrrha patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. Keep eyes on Yang.”

“Right.” Ruby swallowed, throat dry, and fell into place. The door opened, and.. nothing. Silence. Flickering lights. The airlock ahead empty. Waiting. Yang shouldered her shotgun and stepped out of the _J_ _uniper_ into the gangway of the dead hulk. An umbilical tethered to a great metal carcass. Blake was right behind, keeping near the wall, and Ruby followed with Pyrrha tailing close.

She felt a distinct, deeply-rooted _wrongness_ the moment she crossed the threshold. A sense that she should not be here. None of them should. Like they were disturbing a tomb. They didn’t belong in this place, in its cold passageways.

The door shut after them, soundless in the vacuum. The ship had apparently lost all atmosphere at some point. Maybe a hull breach, or following life support failure. The soles of their boots kept them anchored as they moved. Ruby needed only a second to adjust to the magnetic tug and release.

“About to cycle the inner airlock,” Yang reported, trying to peer through the port into the ship proper. “Wish us luck.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Jaune chuckled grimly. “Don’t get killed.”

“Be angry if I did.” Yang hit the door control.

The airlock jerked, shuddered, and then halted, opening a scant three inches at most.

Pyrrha grumbled. “Jammed. Wonderful.” Her stance relaxed a little, but everything about her body language told Ruby she was ready to launch into action at the first sign of danger.

Ruby cocked her head. The power was spotty, and there was no telling how long this ship was floating here, so a door motor not engaging properly seemed par for the course. It didn’t necessarily mean taking the metaphorical, or literal, prybar to the problem. “Try the manual release? Maybe it’s just the mechanism.” She motioned to a nearby maintenance panel.

Yang gestured to Blake, keeping her eye, and weapon, trained on the narrow gap. Her headlamp illuminated a thin view of what was beyond. The light stretched out into a daunting emptiness, dissipating gradually until the darkness swallowed it entirely. They were safe for now, but that didn’t keep tension from coiling in Ruby’s muscles. Her eyes skated to Blake, who was prying open the emergency panel.

Pyrrha spoke up softly, “Remember: Watch your radar. It can be hard at first, relying on sens _ors_ instead of sens _es_.”

That bit of advice brought back memories. “Right.” Ruby did just that, but her radar currently found nothing aside from her team, IFFs showing them as small green blips on a blue field. Anything unidentified would be marked as red. That did not mean enemy, of course; not inherently. It meant to be careful. _Maybe_ shoot.

Realistically it meant _probably_ shoot, but whatever.

Blake gave the manual release a yank, and Yang gingerly tapped the door with her foot. Thankfully it gave, drifting loose in its track. The pair each took a corner, slowly panning over what they could see. Which, judging by the pitch void ahead, was probably a great big _nothing_.

Ruby bit her lip, remembering to take deep breaths. Keep calm. Stay focused. She waited, until eventually Yang motioned for them to follow, and led them out of the airlock, only a few feet beyond the gangway, into the precipice of a yawning darkness. Their lights danced, luminous spears piercing the gloaming; like searchlights seeking enemy craft. Whatever they were in, it was too large an area for their headlamps to reach the nearest bulkheads or the overhead.

“I’m gonna guess we’re in the hold?” Yang posited.

Blake shrugged. “Wide open,” she scoffed, “ _Very_ open. What’s the size of this vessel?”

“Good question.” Yang tapped her comm. “Jaune, what kind of boat we tackling today?”

There was a short beat before he responded, and from his tone he seemed to have been expecting this line of questioning. “Uhm.. looked like.. maybe it was some kind of liner?”

Blake intervened, tersely. “Be clearer?”

“Well, really big. Sorry,” he cleared his throat, “Way too.. _smooth_ to be a typical cargo ship.”

Yang snorted. “Looks pretty open in here.”

“Sure, it’s probably got a big hold, like I said it’s huge, but it’s not _built_ for cargo layout. Too narrow. Freighters maximize space. They’re bulky, real broad. I’m thinking this was a luxury ship, maybe? Transport for VIPs. Rich sightseers. That’s kinda yours to find out now,” he ended with a verbal shrug.

“Right,” Yang cut the feed. “Okay, so he decided we’d scrounge through a big catch. Awesome.” She sounded anything but enthused. “So, anyone got chemlights?” She kept looking slowly side-to-side, never taking her attention away from the darkness that was ahead, beside, and above them all at once. “We’re way too exposed to try moving around like this. Even a little more breathing room would be nice.”

Pyrrha plucked a couple of sticks from her gear, giving each a firm crack against her arm. They lit up immediately with an incredible fluorescence, and she set them adrift into the dark. Stark white beacons soaring through the night like shooting stars, twirling lazily as they traveled the expansive vacuum. Another pair joined them, then a third, widening the sweeping line of lambency.

They trained weapons ahead, rigid and waiting. Gradually, taking all the time they desired, the chemlights revealed what had been hidden. Loose debris lay strewn about the deck, bits of panels and components come free from the time spent spinning out here all alone in the empty. Other than random gash, larger shapes slowly emerged the further the lights floated. An array of containers, locked shelving, and cargo lugs. Most of the cargo was secured to the deck, but the light unveiled crates that had come free, now suspended above them in the cavernous hold.

“That is…” Pyrrha took in the scene, surprise evident in her voice. “An awful lot of freight.”

Ruby shrugged. “Big ship, lots of supplies?”

Yang motioned something to Blake. “Yeah, but it could just be provisions. Spare fuel. Not a bad thing,” she glanced at her sister, “But don’t get your hopes up. No guarantee there’s anything special.”

“Or all that valuable,” Blake added, sending a few chemlights of her own up into the air.

This was most likely the largest boat Ruby had ever set foot inside. Such a huge, open space in a ship was insane; not even the _Juniper’s_ hold could compare. In all fairness, she hadn’t been in _too_ many vessels. The only times she’d glimpsed ships that might approach, or exceed in size, were freighters, or warships fielded by major powers. There had been a Valean armiger that parked in orbit around Patch to resupply when she was a kid. The spectacle had her staring at the sky in open-mouthed disbelief. It happened during a ballgame, so she ended up getting beamed _by_ said ball while standing stock still in the middle of the field.

Yang whistled. “Whoo.. this is gonna be a lot to go through. Still gotta clear the area.”

Blake detached from the deck and expertly navigated up to one of the floating containers. She scarcely transferred any energy to the crate as she pushed off, gracefully flying up to another crate, higher and higher. It was almost like a show, the way the crystal white auras silhouetted her ascending figure. At the same time, a part of Ruby couldn’t shake the image of a deep sea creature being lured in by an anglerfish. She preferred the first version.

Pyrrha stifled a laugh. “I, uh.. I think our friend is going to clear the.. upper.. portion…?”

Yang looked not the least bit perplexed, smirking all the while. “Hey, saves us the trouble. I’m not a fan of low-g stuff anyway. C’mon, let’s poke a bit while Blake checks the overhead.” She motioned for them to follow, and so they did, falling in behind as the slow process of clearing the hold got underway. “Remember to keep your comm open, Blakey,” Yang added, trying not to sound too anxious.

“Wide open,” was the faunus’ curt affirmation.

Apart from short bursts of chatter to keep everyone in the loop, all Ruby could hear was her breathing, and her heart beating in her ears. A distant ringing, like tinnitus, when the silence became too overbearing. It was almost claustrophobic, but nothing she couldn’t deal with. Plenty of experience had pummeled through any real reservations about being ‘tucked in’. It would be a bad show to come all this way, then freak out the moment you sealed up your spacesuit. That didn’t mean it wasn’t eerie, or alien.

What was much, _much_ worse was the reality of what lay just beyond her suit. She tried to focus on her surroundings, and not the nagging feeling of being trapped. The metal coffin they were combing through decidedly did _not_ help assuage that sensation.

Ruby caught glimpses now and again of Blake above them. A shadow darting through the murky upper reaches. It was only ever bits of movement that pulled her attention. Barely more noticeable than her HUD updating intel in the corners and peripherals of her vision. Trying to focus on actually finding the woman didn’t work. It was impressive, but also slightly terrifying. Ruby was glad to have the faunus as an ally, because she was apparently adept at low-g operation, and that struck her as a very valuable assault skill.

She shone her light over some of the containers as they went past. The markings were vague; no script, plain numerical IDs. Manual releases instead of keypads, that could be a power issue though. They were locked, but, so long as there wasn’t secondary security, Nora could just cut through them. Large, plus nondescript in shape and labeling? Her imagination took the bait and ran with it, producing a swarm of possibilities as to their contents. Fantasies both good and terrible.

 _Job now_ , Ruby chided, _Loot later. Shut up,_ _brain_ _!_

She was moving between a pair of containers, training her vision dead ahead, when: “So, Ruby,” Pyrrha’s sonorous voice lit up the comm, “What made you decide that this was the job for you?”

Ruby was legitimately bewildered. Pyrrha was.. curious about her? Or, a voice suggested, maybe she was making small talk to pass the time. Fuzziness swept across her brain, clouding her thoughts. The girl shook off her befuddlement, having already lapsed in silence for a few seconds.

“Ah.. I’m sorry. You don’t have-” Pyrrha was already starting to backtrack.

“No, it’s cool, I just.. I didn’t expect you to ask.” Phrasing was key here, because she really meant ‘expect you to care’.

“You are a part of our team now,” the woman reminded. “We haven’t had a chance to talk. It’s been a rush since you signed on, and then we jumped right into another job. I am curious, if you don’t mind of course.”

“No, not at all. Uhm. I guess.. getting to work with my sister,” Ruby answered, verbally shrugging.

Yang barked out a laugh. “D’aww, I’m so happy to hear that. My little sister wanted to spend time with me!” She teased, saccharine and faux maudlin heavily coating her words. There was also an unmistakable sincerity buried beneath the jest, and it provided some wonderfully familiar comfort in this midst of this off-putting prison.

“Ugh,” Ruby rolled her eyes. “Feeling regret already.” That got a couple of laughs, but if Blake was amused she certainly didn’t show it. “Really though, that was part of it. I missed her, it had been a while. Plus, the job sounded.. interesting?”

“That’s a word for it,” Pyrrha responded, quite neutrally. “I also think it’s a sweet sentiment.”

“Well, what about you?” Ruby asked, figuring fair was fair. Plus she was blushing like crazy, and wanted the spotlight off herself for a bit – or longer, if possible. There was genuine interest, too. Pyrrha was.. well, even though Ruby hadn’t gotten to know the woman well, she was sort of entranced by her. Her affability, her strength. She was a gleaming beacon, her very presence easing those around her.

The redhead scoffed. “That is.. a long story. We can fill you in when we’re back on the ship.”

“Holding you to that,” Ruby playfully pressed.

Yang snorted. “You heard the girl, Pyr. Better keep your word.”

“I always do,” was Pyrrha’s poised reply.

It really was quite something just _how big_ the space allotted for cargo on this ship was. They planted more chemlights as they went, sticking them to the deck and bulkheads, creating as basic a grid as they could. By the time they were finished, they had exhausted their supply of emergency lighting. They had also located the way out, thankfully. At both ends of the hold, set centrally, were heavy doors. Large enough to allow bigger cargo to be transported deeper into the ship as needed, they supposed.

Blake returned to the deck by way of a magnetic grapple on her arm. She launched, let it start to reel in, then changed targets. Rather than follow the cord directly, the faunus employed the momentum to swing around on her own path, keeping clear of obstacles until she could latch onto the deck directly. She recalled the grapple before gracefully touching down, transitioning smoothly into an even stride to rejoin the group.

Ruby let herself breathe a sigh of relief when Yang called the first leg a success. She actually, physically, felt drained. Nothing had even happened! But the potential – the what if, the atavistic terror of the unknown permeating from the dark, had her feeling like something had stretched her out, then let her snap back to size. _Tense_ was an understatement. A spacious compartment like this could have been filled with hostiles, but it was completely devoid of anything bar the interlopers scoping out the ship’s belly.

Yang knocked her on the back, “Wow, you look beat.”

They had gathered back at the airlock, awaiting Nora’s arrival now that they had swept the entrance. Ruby waved an arm irritably at her sister. “Can you blame me?” She didn’t look at any of them, just distracted herself with checking her rifle. “The whole time I kept thinking, ‘oh, something’s gonna pop out from over there, or behind that crate, or fly down from above’!”

Yang snickered. “Only if Blake made an oopsie while airborne.”

Blake did not look amused. “There would need to be ‘air’ for it to be ‘airb-”

Pyrrha hummed in agreement, blocking out the duo. “Uncertainty can feel like swallowing weights. You don’t realize how insidious it is until they’re given enough time to wear you down.”

Yang, who just flashed an obscene gesture at the faunus, made an acceding grunt. “Sometimes it’s better when you go in, and it’s just guns blazing. Gets it all out in the open, over and done.” She nudged Pyrrha. “Good stress relief, too.”

“To each their own,” the redhead diplomatically equivocated.

“Blake agrees,” the blonde confidently stated.

The faunus slowly turned to look at the woman. “ _Does_ Blake?” It struck them as a challenge; lighthearted, but a prod all the same.

“I’d like a _little_ backup here, please!” She almost – key word: _almost_ – sounded like she was trying to play up for sympathy.

There was a moment’s silence as the two looked at each other. Blake eventually lifted one shoulder noncommittally. “Blake agrees,” was her flat response, then her attention drifted away.

Pyrrha chuckled softly, the sound much too cheery for their surroundings. “Who am I to contend with that kind of combined argument? Very well, Yang.” She dipped low, sweeping an arm out, not even attempting to underplay the theatrical flair behind her bow. “The debate is yours.”

Yang playfully swung a fist out. “Stow it, red. I don’t have to take lip from you,” she buoyantly admonished. “Remember the chain of command?”

“Of course,” Pyrrha bowed lower still, “I was out of line, commander. I offer my humblest apologies, and possibly my firstborn, should it please you.”

“Nah, just pick me up a case of Cherry Blitz when we get back to port.”

The airlock opened, and out marched a disarmingly short, and comically fully kitted figure. Nora’s armor was a brilliant bubblegum pink, the suit beneath white with pink and blue trim. She was loaded down with gear, compounding the strange impression. “Okay!” Their resident twidget pumped a fist. “Nobody died! Hey, not even any bleeding. I’m impressed, guys.” She stepped right into the middle of their group, looking over each of them closely.

“Nothing to shoot at,” Yang informed. “But, uh.. your work’s cut out for you.” She jerked her head toward the hold, bursting with all kinds of concealed potential goodies.

Nora almost blanched, then hit her comm. “Jaune, do you have _any idea_ how long it’ll take to get all these open?!”

There was a short delay, Ruby assumed their captain was gathering his wits about him, before, “Actually, no, I haven’t seen it myself? But.. think about the payout. Gotta be something in there worth selling, huh?”

Nora didn’t seem impressed. After working her mouth for a few seconds she fired back, “If I don’t see anything glittery in the first _four_ then you’re gonna get tucked in and come help me. Deal?”

Ruby _swore_ she caught the tail end of a sob right as Jaune said, “Sure.”

“Great!” Back to smiles and boundless energy. “Oh! Before I forget! Here, brought these.” Nora handed them each a fresh bundle of chemlights. “Turn to, ladies!” With that, Nora hefted the industrial lantern she’d brought along and bee-lined for the nearest large crate.

Ruby felt almost back to normal. Just a crew ribbing on each other, working way out in the black. “Okay, what now? We stick around to watch her back? Or…” She trailed off, gesturing towards one of the doors.

Yang answered by first pointing to a door, then elucidating, “Hold’s good to go, and we’ve got a lot more ship to clear. Sooner we start moving, the sooner we’re loading up to jet.”

Ruby breathed. Nodded. “Then let’s do this,” she tried to muster even the slightest hint of their tech-head’s zeal. She failed miserably, but the effort wasn’t a complete waste.

“Like Nora said, let’s turn to!” Yang about-faced, and led them toward their next hurdle. This ‘hatch’ was a large service door. Two thick metal barriers locked together, almost seamless in their union.

Pyrrha went ahead of the group, inspecting the blockade more closely. “I doubt we’ll be so lucky as to find a manual release here, too?”

Blake tilted her head. “That’s heavy security. Odd for an internal cargo bay door.” She looked around at her crewmates, letting the unspoken potentialities work on their own.

Yang chose to look on the bright side. “Maybe there’s some good haul in the crates. Had to keep ‘em nice and safe, didn’t want the crew filching anything.”

Ruby knelt down, studying the bulkhead around the sealed aperture. “Gotta be _something_. Anyone who designs a security system without a failsafe should find another job,” she huffed, eliciting a laugh from her sister.

“Sure you ain’t a twidget at heart, too?” Yang asked. “We can get you a set of tools, let you play around with the Bomb and all.”

“Tempting,” the younger girl panned over the doors themselves. “Doesn’t sound exciting e-…” She trailed off. “...-nough…”

Blake perked up. “What is it?”

Ruby clicked on her comm. “Nora, can you come here for a second?”

“In a jiffy!”

Ruby had a feeling the system’s volume safety parameters prevented her from being deafened.

The ginger bounded up hardly a minute later, having crossed the hold at a sprint. “What’s the damage, chief?” She offered a spirited salute.

Ruby found the exuberance infectious, grinning as she thumbed toward the door. “It’s being stubborn. I-”

“Ooh! I can probably blast through, or maybe cut.. depends how ablative the surface is though. I mean, nothing’s gonna stop Hot Stuff given enough time!” She was talking a mile a second, and already looking over her kit.

“Ah,” Ruby waved her hand, both to signal ‘no’ and attempt to grab the shorter woman’s attention. “N-No, that’s.. that’s cool, really, but I think we’d be good with a p-”

“Jackpot, baby!” Nora produced a canister, and ran to the door. It took her a heartbeat to locate a spot, and she set about applying a thick layer of off-white paste, which firmed up into a malleable, clay-like consistency in seconds.

Ruby paled. “Oh.. crap.”

Pyrrha was already edging away. “Is that-”

Nora planted a small, silvery peg into the surface, pressing it in until it was almost buried. “Everybody, clear out!” She turned and bolted.

Yang sighed. “Not the excitement I wanted.”

“Yeah, great, move, move, go!” Ruby was right behind the ginger, everyone else hurrying to catch up. They followed Nora behind the nearest heavy container, huddling behind multiple layers of protection.

Blake fell to a crouch. “Is this really a good-”

Nora interrupted, like a battering ram through a wall of twigs. “Master key, go!” She hit a button on her scroll, and they felt a quake ripple through the ship. The shock wave sent the closest floating containers tumbling towards the other side of the hold.

Ruby winced, and gingerly peeked around the edge of their barricade. There was now a hole about a head taller than herself, and roughly as wide, boring straight through one of the doors. The edges were still red hot. Talk about overkill.

Jaune came on over the comm. “Guys?! Is everyone all right, scans just picked up a heat spike from inside the ship, right beside you!” His voice was strained with panic.

Pyrrha slumped to the ground, back against the crate, her expression vacant.

Yang adjusted her feed, cutting Nora from the loop. “Jaune, tell Ren to take closer inventory of our Quartite. _Before_ Nora disembarks next time.”

“She di- what am I saying, of course she did.” He sighed. Now that the fear had worn off, he sounded drained, crashing from a high of unbridled terror. “Nobody’s hurt, right? Vitals are checking out over here, but-”

“We’re good,” Yang stared hard at the animated ginger, who was currently extolling the virtues of employing metastable explosives to quickly get through obstacles.

Ruby, meanwhile, was grumbling to herself. “Mag-seal was off.. there was a small gap. All you needed was a prybar. Pull ‘em right open.”

Blake patted the girl’s shoulder consolingly.


	3. Anabasis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the by, as a general announcement to anyone reading this – thank you, by the way, that means a lot and I really hope you’re enjoying the fic so far – I’m currently looking for a beta, because my confidence in my writing skills is.. kind of shot, as one might phrase. ‘One’ being ‘me’. So, if you’ve the experience, the time, and of course the desire to take up such a roll, please do send me a message. With that out of the way, let’s get on to the next chapter.

“You know, I’ve maybe spoken to her.. like.. what? Five? Six times? I already think your twidget is nuts.” Ruby opined, staring at the wide DIY door _blown through_ an actual door. The least Ruby could say for Nora, in a positive light, was that the ginger didn’t go overboard with the Quartite. Technically using it at all in the moment was like merrily skipping right out the airlock, but she was referring to _quantity_ here. Anymore and well.. there would have been much less door.

Pyrrha cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly. “Yes.. that Nora certainly is an.. ah.. she’s quite the character.” Ever the diplomat, she tried to bring down the lingering tone of.. well, none of them were quite sure what they were feeling. Maybe shock, if only to give it _a_ name, because a more appropriate label had yet to settle for everyone. They were all in that odd threshold where the flight instinct had left them behind, and the numbness of safety was busy reacquainting itself with its seating arrangement.

Yang bumped shoulders with her. “Pyr, just say she’s off her nut,” she prodded.

“I will not!” Was the indignant rebuttal.

Blake glanced at Ruby, ignoring the nearby nonsense. “So.. the doors unsealed when the system hopped to emergency power, and all we had to do was…” She trailed off, motioning for Ruby to elaborate.

The girl nodded, “Take anything thin enough, wedge it between them, and presto!” She threw a hand into the air. “Door’s open. Wouldn’t work over _here_ anymore.” She glared down at the deck, where part of the metal frame had been warped from a combination of intense heat and force. “Other side should still be good, but we don’t have anything…” She gesticulated for a moment, wildly miming wielding a tool. “And I don’t wanna risk calling her back over for round two!”

Yang groaned. “Cool. Same. Normally I’m fine with going in loud-”

Pyrrha scoffed. “A bold understatement.”

“-but that stuff’s supposed to be for emergencies,” Yang finished, flinging a look at the redhead. One that was answered with a challenging smirk. She huffed. “Whatever, it’s done. Let’s just.. keep going.” She leaned down and slipped through the gap.

Blake went next, moving smoothly under the low clearance. “I have a feeling she wanted an excuse to play with the explosives,” she opined.

Ruby ignored the fact she was the only one who didn’t need to duck. “Okay, but maybe wait until we _needed_ something to go ‘boom’?”

Pyrrha could only shake her head, crouching to move through the opening. “’Wait’ isn’t a word that comes up too often in Nora’s vocabulary.”

Blake made a soft, affirmative noise. “Neither is ‘subtle’.”

“One of the thruster actuators got damaged in a firefight,” Pyrrha recounted. She mimed one of the aux thrusters unfolding, but at a wonky angle instead of its usual slanted transition. “We couldn’t fix it with parts on hand, so Nora.. improvised.”

The way she said that made Ruby’s blood go cold. “Part of me doesn’t wanna know, but I’m hooked. Gimme details,” she sighed, motioning for the redhead to go on.

Pyrrha tilted her head in a ‘it wasn’t so bad’ manner. “She.. made some modifications to the guiding rail, and used the drones to.. to straighten the thruster, then jammed the rail so it couldn’t move.”

Ruby stood in silence for a moment, ruminating on the.. method.

“So she…” her brain was like an engine slowly warming as she processed what that more than likely entailed. “She strained the thruster to get it pointed right, then damaged the hardware _again_ as a temp fix?”

Blake nodded, her amber eyes haunted by the recollection. “That’s.. precisely what happened, yes.”

“Feeling less and less thrilled about being on a ship where she’s in charge of the Bomb, guys.” The younger girl finally admitted. She couldn’t help but smile, regardless. Nora made things interesting. And it wasn’t like Ruby _actually_ worried about the twidget’s skills. She was still in the process of convincing herself of that, but it was mostly true for the time being. Key word: Mostly.

The plan Pyrrha described was.. well, not exactly textbook. Okay, that was putting it so lightly it might have floated away from the lack of weight supporting it. She didn’t envy the woman’s burden in a situation like that. One of the forward thrusters out, no way to fix it on board. In that case, it was either limp along and hope nothing else breaks, or try and improvise. That’s exactly what the ginger appears to have done. It sounded like Nora used what they had, unorthodox or not, to at least get them far enough to buy replacement parts. Ingenuity, that was a good trait. She told herself to keep thinking that, and not about the Quartite ‘key’ incident.

Perhaps she only got carried away when her crews’ lives weren’t on the line.

They had come out into a broad passageway with plenty of clearance for people or cargo to be moved through. Blake plucked a motion sensor from her kit and planted it over the hole, holding down the power until it was primed. “You’ve got early warning ready, Nora,” she informed.

“Got my ears perked! Thanks, Blakey!” The vivacious reply blared over their comms.

Ruby manually tweaked the volume settings for Nora’s unit, trying to be surreptitious, only to freeze as Blake caught her dead in the act. “Uh…” she droned.

A sly smile curved the faunus’ lips, the woman tapping her comms link in wordless accord.

“Ah. Phew,” Ruby mimed wiping sweat from her forehead, a flood of relief gushing through her. That could have come across.. bad, no sugarcoating. Apparently this was old hat for some of the crew though.

It didn’t look as if there was much in this passage. A straight shot, at least from what Ruby could see. Apart from a pair of abandoned lugs the only thing standing out in the visible area was a booth that probably served as a security checkpoint, or something along those lines. Ruby motioned towards it. “Mind if I have a look?”

Yang shook her head. “Have fun. Pyrrha, stick close to her? Blake and I will scout a little further.” The two women moved to comply with their instructions; the former taking up a ready position nearby, the latter quickly following to watch Yang’s back.

Ruby had to pry the door open first. Unlike the others, this one was actually blocked. A chair had fallen over, keeping the door from sealing. With the motor already disengaged it was easy enough to push the barrier aside. She hauled the chair out before stepping into the cozy space, but paused a moment to ensure Pyrrha really was keeping close. The redhead gave her a quick wave, spurring Ruby back to action.

The backup didn’t feel demeaning, it was smart. If they were going to ever split off, then pairs was the way to go. Besides, Ruby really didn’t enjoy the notion of being by herself in that situation, especially once she’d entered the booth. It would have been a death trap had anything decided to charge in after her.

The room’s contents consisted of.. a counter, and a partition with a clear view out into the passageway, sans chair. Only enough space for one person at a time. No adornments or decorations, just a cramped cubicle where someone could tally inventory being moved between the hold and the rest of the ship. Applying the word ‘security’ to it might have been giving it too much credit. Just a plain checkpoint then.

_Woo-hoo_ , Ruby internally bemoaned. She almost called her search at that, until something snagged her attention. There had been a glint, a quick refraction of light, when she’d looked around the booth. Brief, but surprisingly intense. She panned over again, slowly, until her light hit the counter. It danced through and over the surface, glittering brilliantly. She bit her lip, confused for a moment, until something clicked in her memory. Butterflies filled her stomach; excitement bubbling up at the find.

“Okay, that’s cool,” she murmured, leaning in for a better look and waving a hand over it.

“What is?” Pyrrha practically appeared opposite the partition.

Ruby yelped and jerked back, jarred out from her inspection. “Ah.. I think this is an old glass terminal!” She blurted, voice raised and heart _pounding_ in her chest.

“I’m sorry!” Pyrrha winced, taking a step back. She did _look_ truly apologetic, the girl noted.

Ruby gave herself a second to breathe. “No, it’s cool, I should have been paying better attention. Really, no.. no worries.” She waved a hand, the other gripped tight on her rifle. All that tension building up, it only took one little spark to kick off the powder keg. It was humiliating, but nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. In fact, this was pretty tame in the grand scheme of her public embarrassments. Think of it as a glancing shot, not a direct hit.

She could live with it.

Pyrrha looked ready to heap blame back on herself, but swallowed her urge to shoulder responsibility. She stood there, shamefaced and tentative, while working out how to proceed.

Ruby, for her part, did exactly the same.

There they were, eyes flitting to and from the other. And there they stayed, for a small and horribly uncomfortable eternity.

“So.. it’s a.. what?” The older woman eventually asked.

Ruby swallowed, the butterflies once fluttering excitedly in her stomach were now a ceaseless storm of unease. “A.. A glass terminal. See-through computer,” her fingers mimed out typing. She forced her eyes down to the terminal again, rather than continue staring at Pyrrha and making things worse than they already were. Entirely possible, and maybe even impressive in a twisted kind of sense.

She didn’t want to experience it firsthand.

The completely translucent medium was raised, its peak roughly an inch at the far end, angling the screen toward the user. “Heard someone call it a ‘looking-glass’ once,” Ruby recounted, “But that sounded weird. It’s not a mirror, y’know?”

“Is it working?” Pyrrha inquired, her curiosity piqued.

Ruby gave the screen a tentative tap, then shook her head. _“_ It’s probably not tagged as necessary, so chances are it won’t be turning on. Can’t be one hundred percent sure without power if it works at all.” She knelt down to scan the counter’s underside. It also gave her a chance to breathe without exposing how rattled she was. Less chipping away at her dignity, thank you _very_ much. “Don’t see.. any obvious drives. Could be internal, but there aren’t any panels.” She felt around for good measure, pressing her fingers against the base. “Could be remote storage. Like.. they linked everything to a hub somewhere else in the ship. I’m guessing it has an archive, boat _this_ big.”

Pyrrha inched forward again, peering through the partition. “Ah.. oh!”

The exclamation made Ruby flinch. “Huh?”

The redhead’s eyes widened in recognition. “It’s a haptipane!”

Ruby blinked, the term going through one ear then out the other, stirring no figurative bells from their slumber along the way. “A happy _what_?”

Pyrrha giggled. “Haptic pane,” she explained. “A computer like a pane of glass. That’s what they’re called in Mistral. I’ve only ever seen one before.”

“Hard to manufacture these days,” Ruby said. “Scuttlebutt says some rich families in Atlas might use them. Maybe in Mistral, too. Haven’t been a big thing for a while, so…”

“This is either a very old ship,” Pyrrha looked about, “Or it’s more recent, and belonged to someone with very deep pockets.” She felt a chill run down her spine. That was troubling news. So far everything had been unmarked; no identifying seals or names anywhere. Assuming this was newer, meaning it was an interest of someone with a lot of lien, then _why_ the blank slate? What was the anonymity for?

Ruby nodded, forgetting Pyrrha couldn’t see her as she searched for possible maintenance panels. “Yup,” she popped the ‘p’. “Wish I could see it working. Read about ‘em, but never got to check one out myself. Always wanted to. Smooth GUI, lightning fast processing speeds, touch control instead of keypads, just... So. Very. _C_ _ool_.”

Technical details poured through her thoughts, and almost right out her mouth, until she stemmed the tide. She had learned the hard way that most people were not exactly receptive to tech-talk, which was putting it politely. Especially given some of the reactions she’d had throughout the years. It had been worse as a kid, honestly.

Bolting upright, she sent Pyrrha an awkward smile. “My bad.. got a little carried away. Suppose I.. maybe hoped it’d be _something_. Luck didn’t hold out.” She shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ kind of manner.

Pyrrha smiled; kind, genuine, endlessly supportive. “Ruby, this is what we’re here for. You’re doing wonderfully so far,” the woman reassured. “I wasn’t aware you were so technically proficient.”

Ruby nearly turned red as her namesake. Pyrrha seemed.. impressed. That had sounded like real, honest-to-gods admiration, and it had her flustered to no end. “Oh.. uhm.. n-no, not really.” She started tripping over her words, her tongue suddenly finding it hard to function properly. “It’s inv- uh, interested- _interesting_! I mean,” she took a gulp of air, “I think this stuff’s really cool. And-and I do know a little? But, well, weapons are my specialty. I’ve got enough experience to.. to get by with things like this? But you really shouldn’t rely on me for it, seriously! Like.. there was this one time I tried to fix a band reader on the fly, and all it did was-”

“Ruby?” Pyrrha’s voice dragged her from the darkness of past woes.

Ruby blinked. “Ah.. oh. Y-Yeah, sorry. Uhm.. point is, I’m not a specialist. Enthusiast, I guess?” She shifted her weight around, laughing uncertainly.

“If you say so,” Pyrrha shrugged. “Having someone with your aptitude on the team will be a godsend. Blake does her best, but for all her skills she’s no engineer.”

“Neither am I,” Ruby reminded, stepping out of the booth.

“Jack of all trades, master of none. Oftentimes better than a master of one.” Pyrrha recited.

“You’re giving me _way_ too much credit,” Ruby’s heart was racing, she wasn’t used to this sort of praise coming from outside her family. Ordinarily people saw her as a dork; maybe a capable dork at best. This was.. different. Good? Yeah, good different. Still weird though.

She needed time to adapt. Before, you know, she melted into a gibbering mess. Like she’d been about to do only seconds ago.

“At least this ‘jack’ isn’t so eager to take a hammer.. or explosive.. to everything between her and her goal. I’m sure Yang and Blake are significantly less stressed with you around.” Pyrrha looked at Nora’s handiwork, not too far away, and her gaze went distant. “I know I am.” There was a story in those four short words, and Ruby didn’t quite want to know it.

There was a tiny morbid part, of course, that was desperately curious.

She stamped on that part.

“I’ll wait and blow up something that’s trying to kill us,” Ruby snickered. “Not that.. I actually have any grenades, or.. huh.” She chewed her lip in thought. “Now I kinda want some.”

“You’ll need to go through Yang for that,” Pyrrha explained, “So I’m sure you’ll be able to requisition a couple.”

Ruby winced. While having some grenades would be comforting- even if the circumstances where they’d be useful were inherently _discomforting_ \- Yang tended to be pretty overprotective. Hence the drills _they_ put her through before allowing her to officially sign on, even though she’d had training and been through real combat prior. “Yeah.. no. She might be my sister, but don’t think that’s getting me a lot of points. Especially related to...” she motioned to their surroundings.

“Oh, that’s…” Pyrrha looked concerned quite suddenly. “Before you worry,” she hesitated, close to tip-toeing around whatever was on her mind, but she kept her eyes firmly on Ruby’s. “My prior remarks had nothing to do with Yang being your sister.”

Ruby blinked. “I.. that hadn’t even occurred to me?” She felt a tinge of apprehension coil around her heart. The chill of doubt, threatening to quell any burgeoning confidence; like kindling doused with water just when it looked as if the sparks were about to catch. In that instance, the space of a few words, she felt the ground stabilizing her morale _crack_.

Pyrrha’s expression flipped to mortification in a flash. “Oh! I’m sorry, that.. that’s going to make it sound…” She stopped, took a moment, then began again. “I wanted to clear that up, in the event you _were_ thinking it was special treatment. I promise you, it’s-” A flash of light from down the passageway interrupted her.

“Hey, y’all good over here?” Yang asked. “We cleared up ahead, but your vitals started going all over the place.”

“Just getting worked up over nothing!” Ruby insisted, forcing a smile. Technically true, considering her scare a minute ago, and the brief excitement proceeding it. She forced down the anxious demons jeering at her. Throwing taunts like, _You really thought_ Pyrrha _was going to be impressed with some green kid like you?_ _You’re Yang’s kid sister, that’s it. She’s just tolerating you._

Ruby swallowed hard, close to kicking herself to muffle the wounding thoughts.

Yang arched a brow. “’Kay. Well,” she thumbed over her shoulder, “Let’s go, unless you actually found something?”

Pyrrha shook her head. “Maybe an old computer, but without power it’s hard to say.” She gestured to the younger girl beside her. “Ruby also reported no visible data storage.”

“We’ll check back if we can prime the Bomb. Good eye, sis,” Yang winked before striking off.

“Indeed,” Pyrrha smiled warmly at the brunette.

“Uhm, thanks,” Ruby tried to respond in kind, but the smile just wouldn’t reach her mouth to begin with. They fell behind the blonde, following her further down the passageway. Blake was waiting a short way ahead, keeping watch until the rest of the team showed up.

“More doors along the bulkhead,” the faunus relayed. She directed her light to one, then further down the passageway to another similar doorway.

“Worth trying any of them?” Pyrrha asked.

Yang looked over the first one they came to, offering only a shrug herself. “Dunno. Rubes?” When she didn’t receive a reply, the blonde swung around, worry etched into her features. “Ruby?”

Blake turned her head a fraction, eyes narrowing quizzically on the girl.

Ruby started, meeting her sister’s gaze wide-eyed. “Wha-huh? What’s.. sorry, sorry,” she shook her head, filling her lungs and exhaling slowly. “Something, uhm.. something on my mind. Won’t let it happen again. Uh.. what’s up?” She steeled herself, knocking the unwelcome, poisonous worries deeper and deeper still, far past the fog in her mind. Maybe they’d dissolve in acid if she could force them into her stomach.

Yang searched her eyes for a few seconds, no less concerned. “Doors,” she motioned with her shotgun. “Worth getting open?”

Ruby moved to inspect, giving the barrier in question a thorough once over. They were like the heavy door Nora had ‘unlocked’ for them. “No. Still need a tool to pry them open. I’d guess they lead to service tunnels, bypassing general traffic to shuttle supplies to critical sections. Probably for those lugs.”

“Might be worth looking into later, but probably not important?” Blake asked, looking for clarification.

“Pretty much,” Ruby shrugged, having nothing else to offer on the matter.

“Write that off for now,” Yang decided, already walking.

The matter temporarily dealt with, they kept moving until hitting the end of the passageway.A basic door, opened with the yank of a lever, led them into a wide open concourse. It looked more like a lobby. A large, octagonal compartment furnished with chairs, curved desks, and what looked to be the remains of what were probably once plants. From this point the path split seven ways, each sealed off, the ones to either side of the central hatch leading upward.

“Yay, love me some options,” Yang grumbled with sardonic cheer.

Each door was marked with a directional reference. A good sign, seeing as they had no map this would offer a degree of awareness. The language was a dialect of Palladian, not something Ruby could read on her own. Thankfully her helmet’s HUD detected and auto-translated the script.

“Utilities, Atmospheric,” Ruby red aloud, going counterclockwise, “Crew Quarters, Promenade, uh.. the quarters again, Operations, and Observation.”

“A ‘promenade’?” Blake’s nose wrinkled. “That…”

“Sounds ritzy and dumb?” Yang offered with a waggish grin.

Blake looked unfazed by the joke. “I’d say more ‘uptight’, but sure. Why not?” She shook her head, releasing a short puff of air. “Never mind. Rubbed me the wrong way for some reason.”

There was a nebulous, perplexing note in the reserved woman’s voice. It drew Ruby’s gaze, but her curiosity was dampened – moreover, the faunus intimidated her a little, and the thought of prying struck her as a potentially terrible idea. So she bit her tongue and resigned to listening.

Blake turned to Yang. “Want to take this widdershins? Utilities to…” she went quiet, a dour look on her face. “To Observation?” She pointed to the final corridor.

“Yeah,” Yang sounded tired already, likely from imagining the process of clearing this entire ship section by section. From the way it sounded, each branch likely led to a series of compartments that fell somewhere under the umbrella the labeling offered, comprising a related cluster of functions and purposes. She halfheartedly gestured toward Utilities and took point while Blake handled the emergency release.

To say the process was grueling would be insulting to the team doing all the legwork. They moved as quickly as possible without acting recklessly, but caution prevailed in the end. This was supposed to be as by the books as manageable – Nora notwithstanding. Safety, in tandem with the sheer size of the ship, meant that they were sifting through the ‘Utilities’ compartments for hours.

The first section was water treatment. A room filled with rows of tanks, seemingly endless lengths of piping, overlapping catwalks reaching up at least ten stories, and about half a dozen control booths spread out around the area. Soon after entering, Pyrrha turned her light to one of the bulkheads. More specifically, to a panel set into the surface. A maintenance hatch. Servicing tubes probably crisscrossed a good portion of compartments like these, giving technicians easy access to power conduits and other inner workings. A kind of circulatory system.

“Probably gonna be plenty of those,” Yang commented. She was shining her light into a large water-filled filtration tank.

Blake paused her scanning of the overhead walkways. “Want to check them now?”

“Nah.” Yang glanced at the hatch herself. “ _M_ _ight_ be some useful pieces in there, but right now it’d just add to our workload. As long as they’re closed,” she snorted, “Then let’s leave ‘em be, doubt we’d find anything special anyway. Keep clearing the main sections.”

After water came waste treatment, then solid recycling, gravity, and finally the archive. These were the largest compartments, and all of them were clear. Like with the hold, of course, the mentality was to enter under the assumption they were not safe.

Ruby just had the misfortune of a little emotional baggage to carry with her now, thanks to her spirits threatening to take a full nose dive.

Observing how Blake and Yang coordinated shaved some of the edge off. Plus, she told herself, it was _research_. Valuable data, insight into her new team. Furthermore, she really didn’t know much about the faunus at all, and only a fraction more about the redhead at the rear. The taciturn woman flitted about with what seemed at first to be a sort of abandon, but Ruby quickly picked up on the woman’s methods. The way she scoured every corner and sought out likely vantage points for hidden enemies. How she kept to the shadows whenever they opened a door or rounded a bend, waiting out of sight if anything attacked, putting herself in a position to blindside hostiles. She was no amateur, that was for sure.

The archive was the last in the line of compartments. A sprawl of towers housing, connecting, and managing information from throughout the entire ship. Mainframes, servers, and data drives behind translucent screens blanketing the walls, looming over them like dark portals. They were surrounded by a vast, overwhelmingly powerful computational vault. This was, in many ways, the brain of the leviathan. And it was all powered down. Dark. Silent. Waiting. Dormant, but not dead.

It was the smallest of the compartments, which meant a quicker clear, but that made it no less impressive. Nothing here was ‘current’ tech. Nowadays large scale memory meant huge, automated flashband libraries for central storage in big ships or buildings. Or band cartridges and drives for individual terminals. Durable, efficient, easy to make and keep, and, most of all, cheap.

This.. this was older age tech. Glinty glimpses of life before the universe went up in flames. The screens weren’t there for decoration. They were looking-glasses, dozens of them all around, tapped into holographic mainframes housing large prisms and lasers to write and read holograms. Today that tech was usually relegated to the smallest scale, like scrolls and plates. This archive was about as close as one could get to stepping into the past – and maybe the future again, if fortune favored them. It was wonderful, but also held a melancholic pall to it. Once, this was what nearly every world, every ship, every living person used. Commonplace, everyday appliances.

Now they had trouble manufacturing anything larger than a data pad, forget the fully-integrated hardware that gave looking-glasses their famous translucence. The GUI suspended inside the medium with seamless transitioning and unparalleled clarity.

Ruby had nearly passed out upon first entering the compartment, disbelief and wonder flashing across her face and dueling for supremacy. Once the girl realized this wasn’t a fever dream she had been quite _keen_ on getting a closer look, hurrying over to the nearest tower and examining it with open incredulity. Even more than the first one, she wanted to know how these worked. What was it made of? How did they create it? How were the CPU and memory storage rendered indiscernible to the user?

Yang and Pyrrha were impressed, but neither could call themselves especially tech-savvy beyond a few exceptions related to their respective kits. If anything, they were hit less by the wonder, and more the despondency brought on by the resurrected ghosts of an age not quite lost, yet, but certainly decayed and listing precariously.

Yang let out a low whistle. “This is the kinda shit people aren’t gonna believe when you’re trading stories at port.” She ran her hand over one of the wall terminals, getting no response from the inactive screen.

Ruby walked around one of the pillars, trying to discern what functions it might have been dedicated to. Each one housed an individual mainframe, so maybe they were meant to monitor specific systems somewhere else in the ship? Record data, or remote operation? Both? She really wanted to get into the guts of the machine, even though her knowledge of this kind of tech was barebones, and that was being generous. Withal the temptation tugged at her, returned some light to her analytical gaze.

Blake stared, almost gaping as her eyes wandered between the pillars and the walls. “This.. this is some serious tech. I’ve o-” She clamped her mouth shut, shooting a look at Yang.

The blonde had whipped around the moment Blake had gone quiet. “What’s the matter?”

The faunus exhaled slowly, flexing her fingers. Her whole body looked rigid, radiating disquieting energy. It was like a switch had been flipped. “First Palladian, now this? What does that tell you?”

Yang looked about, as if confused that the question had been directed to her. “Uh… Stuffy language, shiny tech? I dunno.” She fixed her eyes on Blake, her expression calm. “Doesn’t really mean much to me.”

“We’re on an Atlesian ship. It has to be,” Blake stated resolutely, answering the question Yang ducked around.

“That’s an old language, Blake,” Pyrrha reminded. “For all we know this could have belonged to Mantle. Maybe even Pallas.”

“It’s too much of a coincidence,” Blake shook her head. “This tech used to be widespread a long time ago. If it were old, then what are the odds we find some ship that belongs to Atlas’ ancestors? Why not Vale’s, or Mistral’s, or Vacuo’s?”

“Pretty sure it’s in way too good a shape to have ever been Vacuan,” Ruby mumbled, mouth moving on autopilot. She blinked, and shrank a little when she saw everyone staring at her. “Oops. My bad, it just.. I’ll shut up.” She ducked her head and scurried further away.

Amber eyes slid back to meet emerald, then lilac. “Out of everything, on a ship brimming with high scale tech, we find the _Atlesian_ language?”

Yang held up a hand. “Okay, so what if it’s Atlas? Then we pick it clean like usual. Maybe take a little extra satisfaction when the money rolls in.” She smirked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Blake narrowed her eyes. “’So what if it’s Atlas?’ _Why_ is there an unmarked ship out here in the middle of nowhere?” Her voice went up, laced with something hot and dangerous. She stabbed a finger at one of the walls. “A ship that had to be commissioned by people with extraordinary means at their disposal.”

“Big ego, big ship?” Yang shrugged.

“Yang.” Her tone spoke volumes more than just the woman’s name. Her eyes shone hard behind her visor, locked onto their team leader as if daring the blonde to gainsay her.

“Blake.” Yang replied evenly, her restraint emphasizing this was not a contest.

“This is an Atlesian ship,” Blake began, her voice low and chilly, “Isolated. No apparent identification. Funded by someone with a lot of money. That tells me they didn’t want to be found.” She looked around for a second, doing more than merely observing the compartment. “And it’s _empty_.” The implication snaked its way through the vacancy; through the silence and the stillness. Like a choking dust, until she gave it weight. “ _What_ were they _doing_ out here?”

“Okay!” Yang cut in, putting herself right in front of Blake. She extended a hand, letting it linger. The faunus stared at it for a second, then her eyes flicked to Yang’s, a silent concession in their depths. Only then did the blonde’s hand gingerly come to rest on Blake’s arm.

“Hey, listen…” Her tone softened. “Right now we still don’t know anything for sure. Maybe it’s Atlesian, or.. whatever, I dunno. So.. let’s focus on figuring it out, and go from there once we’ve got something solid underfoot, huh?”

Blake stared hard into Yang’s eyes, searching silently. After a few, _very_ long seconds, she gave a single nod. “I’ll do another sweep. To be on the safe side.” Her hand came up, alighting briefly atop the blonde’s.

Yang offered a bolstering smile. “Sounds good.” She watched the faunus wander off, disappearing between the towers toward the far end of the archive.

Ruby felt like her insides were twisting, tying into knots of bitter unease.

Blake was calm. Analytical. Collected. Always so centered, with an unflappable self-possession. Or so Ruby had thought. That impression clashed violently with the scene closing before her. She had never witnessed Blake so.. so _intense_ before. It was like pulling out a rug, leaving her floored. More than that, she was concerned. The girl adjusted her feed, a spike of guilt going through her gut as she cut the faunus from the loop.

Uh.. guys? What was that about?” She asked, completely lost and very unnerved.

Yang sighed. “Nothing you need to worry ‘bout right now. Promise.”

“She sounded upset, Yang!” Ruby insisted. She was worried. Not for herself, but for Blake. That had been real anger. Not only that, but something deeper, darker; something that Ruby only barely caught onto, and it made her skin crawl.

Pyrrha cleared her throat. “The faunus and Atlesians have never gotten along. More the latter’s doing.” Her words were cagey, lacking their usual candidness.

Ruby furrowed her brow. “Yeah, I know, but that was…” She hedged, wetting her lips, and dredged up the courage to continue, “That sounded personal, y’know?”

Yang looked to Pyrrha. Another quiet conversation, leaving Ruby in the dark.

“It’s not really our place,” Yang said; subdued, dispirited.

Ruby nodded. Was it an answer? No. Was it the end of the matter? Absolutely.

If Blake was carrying something with her.. then it was hers, and hers alone, to talk about.

“Is she going to be okay?” The brunette asked, focus shifting to the woman in question directly.

Yang glanced in the direction Blake had disappeared. “I.. I think so.” It wasn’t exactly uncertainty, but _anxiety_ that gave the blonde pause. As if Yang believed things _should_ be fine, but was worried her expectations would be undermined.

“Maybe one of you should check on her then?” Ruby suggested. That would definitely make her feel more better in regards to the faunus’ well being.

A small, proud smile tugged at Yang’s lips. “Eh, she’d probably be annoyed we followed her.” Looking about, she pointed across the compartment. “Wanna take a look?” She was referring to the central terminal, which would have provided master access to anything and everything stored in the archive. Assuming it was operational.

Ruby waffled, weighing the risks. She could at least check to see if it had power, but what if it did? Should she try to sift through any of the contents? She didn’t have any data mining equipment, so it would be a short manual search at most. What if she put too much strain on the system, though? Tried to access the wrong file, or too sensitive a database, and put what little was operational into a hard lockdown?

Or, worst of all, it was always a potentiality that meddling might trigger a total system wipe! She wasn’t trained for this, and handling a delicate operation when a potential payout was on the line made that distinction all the more daunting. She was staring at a cliff face, and had to find footholds by intuition. While any misstep would not only bring the whole wall of rock down atop her, but prevent anyone else from continuing themselves.

Apprehension clogged her throat, building behind her eyes and draining their effervescence. She took a breath, urging herself past the phantoms clinging to her every move, and-

Blake’s voice cut through the haze building up in her head.

“The power plant is back that way,” the faunus reported, returning to the group. “Quick look also suggested there might be a path up to the bridge. We’d need to go through security either way.”

Yang frowned. “You went ahead without us?”

“Just ducked out,” Blake shrugged. “Don’t worry, I was careful. Empty passageways and some directions. That’s all I saw. I also planted another motion sensor, just in case.”

“Fine, but next time mind giving us a heads-up?” Yang asked, worry staining her voice. “The least I could do was send Pyrrha to watch your back.”

Ruby glanced sidelong, _Don’t get jealous. Pyrrha’s more experienced. She’d be the best choice._

The faunus nodded. “Right, sure. Sorry. I wanted to check if there was anything worth looking through ahead.”

Ruby, glad for the distraction, cleared her throat. “Both.. the saddle and power plant sound pretty important? Especially the plant. If we could get the Bomb primed, we might have an easier time looking around?”

“Possibly even get the lights on,” Pyrrha murmured.

Ruby gasped, the pieces of an idea flying together into an exciting array of possibility. “You think there might be some, uhm…” She rolled over how to word this next bit, trying to be _tactful_ about the matter.

“Guns,” Yang butted in, laughing softly. “You mean you’re hoping there’s guns we can take.”

Red touched the girl’s cheeks. “Well, y-yeah! Even if they aren’t that good, maybe we can still scrap ‘em for parts?” She chewed her lip, eyes turning away again. “Plus, if this really is an At- _ah_ , I mean!” She belted up, making sure to look _anywhere_ but at Blake. “I’m just.. super curious what kinda guns they kitted their security with on a boat like this?” She amended, point still the same, but hoped her slip-up went unnoticed.

“She’s a total gun nut,” Yang elucidated to the other two women, garnering chuckles from their teammates.

Blake eyed Ruby’s rifle. “You don’t say.”

“I believe that’s an interesting proposition,” Pyrrha backed her up.

_You saying that ‘cause of Yang?_ Another awful little voice whispered, making Ruby’s heart shrink a bit more.

Blake returned her attention to the team leader, repositioning to only a few inches from the blonde. “So, plan of action?”

Yang pursed her lips, looking over her shoulder toward the doorway Blake had come from. It was tempting, but they had been working for a while now. “You know what? We’ll mark that as first thing for tomorrow. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready for a break.” She stretched her arms and back for a second, trying to work out some of the tension building in her muscles.

As soon as Yang mentioned a break, it felt like the group’s collective energy plummeted in tandem, yet swelled with a common resolve: _Leave_!

“That sounds lovely,” Pyrrha rolled her shoulders.

“No complaints from me,” Blake threw in her vote, casting her eyes warily about the compartment.

Ruby, reading the energy in the room and having no qualms herself, acquiesced with a grateful sigh in place of words. The idea of a break sounded.. there wasn’t even a word she could think of to describe the rush of relief it brought. She wanted off this ship. Nothing had been quite _right_ since coming aboard, and she was ready to return to more familiar and, better yet, welcoming surroundings.

Yang patched her comm to the ship. “Jaune, we’ve swept a good.. fifth of this boat, not counting the hold. We’re heading back for R-and-R.”

Their captain responded quickly. “Glad to hear it. You guys probably need some by now. Good work today, everyone.”

Blake rolled her eyes. “’Good work’, while he’s sat in the bridge the entire time.”

Pyrrha shook her head. “If I know Jaune, he’s relieved to hear we’re aiming for friendly territory. That was no platitude.”

“Yeah, seriously, Blakey,” Yang lightly chided. “Ease up, huh?”

Blake frowned. “Right, I shouldn’t have…” She groaned softly, placing a hand over her visor as if to rub her face. “I just need to cool off. Even better we’re calling it a day.”

Yang nudged the faunus’ shoulder, switching her feed to just the two of them. “Lemme know if you wanna talk later, ‘kay?”

Blake nodded gratefully, but otherwise kept silent.

They fell back into formation, and set out on the long walk to the hold, and the _Juniper_.


	4. And the Stars Keep Burning

Nora’s rig was bulkier than one might assume for someone in a noncombatant role.

It also had a few more features than were considered “standard” fare. The auto-polarizing visor was kind of a given. Within milliseconds of her helmet’s sensors picking up anything bright, the translucent screen tinted, turning completely opaque from the outside. Heat shielding, ancillary insulation, extra padding, lots of mag-lock points, and dynamic weight distribution to keep her steady even when loaded down with tools, fuel, and whatever else while on the move.

Like the canister of Quartite that _absolutely nobody_ would know was missing.

The girls had her back, they wouldn’t snitch.

A raucous little tune blared in her ears as she circled a storage container, bobbing her head to the frenetic bass, rumbling drums, flowing sax, chugging guitar, and the entrancing rhythm of a synthsitar. What might have been overbearingly distracting to some was like a barrier for Nora. As she’d once put it, “It keeps the thoughts from turning to jam and leaking out of my ears.” Her incorrigible smile and ostensible sincerity always left people unsure if they should laugh or run.

She was swinging around an ugly looking block of cobbled tech bolted to a grip that probably came from an old impact drill. The body was composed of as many sensors as she could fit into a single unit as possible, without shorting anything or sacrificing performance. Roughshod casing to protect the delicates, looking like when a child tries to wear a suit too big for them. Not so much for the amount of unused space, but the jarringly uneven layers. Or, in a word, ‘wrinkly’. Like it was managing to melt at all right angles.

It worked, which surprised the uninitiated onlooker, but the miracle was it worked _well_. Basic penetration lent some insight as to how much of the container was filled. A mole – that is to say molecular, and _that_ is to say sweeper – sniffed for warning signs. Dangerous chemicals, minerals, or.. point being: Molecular markers that raised little figurative red ‘death’ flags. Checking for radiation was a given, their suits did that already. Her handy, hideous scanner also looked for any radioactive particles beyond the pale – nothing but the backlight behind the stage there.

Finishing her sweep at the container door, Nora folded the scanner. There was a hinge where the handle met the body, but it resisted for a second before the whole assembly snapped abruptly into place with an alarming amount of force. The petite ginger traded it for the plasma torch locked to a carry rail on her back. It was an older model industrial tool; beefy, and requiring both hands to hold steady. The words “Hot Stuff” were emblazoned on the side in bright pink, along with little painted flames, all glossed over with a heat-resistant lacquer. It unfolded from its compact, carry-state into a cumbersome looking metal nightmare.

“All righty then,” she sang, powering it on. The whole thing thrummed gently in her grip, excited to get to business. “Just a little ol’ incision and you’ll be righter than rain.” She double checked the output and went to work, delicately melting through the outer surface to expose the workings of the locking mechanism. She didn’t need to cut the whole door off. All it took was severing the right bits, and the rest would swing out no problem.

The ablative layer warped, cracked, then crumbled to pieces as it was gradually worn down by the relentless assault. Then the composites started to melt. Bubbling and seeping away in molten globs that hung, weightless, around the wound in the container. A congeries of oranges and whites that swiftly lost their bite, turning dark. Little liquid stars dying in the night.

She peeled away the casing a bit at a time until she reached the important components. On the first crate she’d taken her time to figure out what was what, rather than risk the cargo. Now, after having gone through a handful, it was nearabouts a reflex. She weakened the bolts, folded the cutter shut, and gave the lock a good, firm whack with her hammer. The point of impact crumpled, and the influx of force snapped the damaged components. Sadly there was no satisfying tumble and clang thanks to the low-g, so Nora had to discard it herself. After dusting her hands – for effect, because it just felt _right_ – the ginger flipped the now nearly limp lever and swung the large door open.

She’d initially considered using a small amount of Quartite to blow the locks, but she wasn’t actually sure _how_ much was just enough. Tempting as it was, she’d be in for it if her experiments ruined anything valuable. There was also the teeny, itty-bitty little risk that it might trigger a chain reaction. Considering the amount of dust she’d found so far, that could be.. well it would be impressive as all get out, but also probably kill them all.

As a side note, Nora didn’t have a _whole_ lot to work with, so every test would waste more and more precious compound. Another dream for another day, she lamented while pouring over the container’s treasures. Lots of cases with boring labels, but at least that made identifying their contents easy. The ones immediately in front looked like they were mainly dust in various forms of refinement. Ground, cut crystal, and some cases even held tubes of dust suspended in a pure liquid state. Now _that_ was fancy. Also useful. Some of this they could just keep, save a little lien in the future.

Humming along to the music, she tapped away at her scroll, tagging the glittery goodies for the drones to come and collect. She was on door duty after all, not transport. And there were a lot more containers left. She hadn’t even started on the secured shelves, but those looked like they’d be a lot easier. Small mercies.

So far it had all been like this. While her sunny disposition was hard to dampen even on slow days, she couldn’t have predicted the treasure trove in that first container. She had actually, _literally_ screamed when she confirmed what was inside.

Her comm may _also_ have been on, and feeding to the saddle.

Jaune _might_ have panicked, but Nora knew he had a soft disposition. Poor thing. She would find a way to make it up to their ‘fearless leader’ later. She was already trying to work out the details of setting up a surprise party to celebrate the find, that’d cheer him up for sure!

Most jobs they counted themselves fortunate if they scrounged some good quality components from the engines, computers, or electrical systems. Basic tier salvage; decent money, but _boring_! Now they were dealing with a _real_ haul. Nora’s shock was so intense at first that she wondered if it were some kind of dream. But no, the platinum and gold ingots, mountains of dust, canisters of expensive chemicals, and all the rest were _very_ real.

Her music paused as the comm clicked on, carrying another heads-up from Yang. “Passing the next motion sensor.” A beat later and she heard the notification, her HUD listing “motion detection alert” in the upper corner.

“Oh, captain, there’s something coming this way!” Nora exclaimed in a warbling, hammy voice, a wide toothy grin lighting her face.

“Then melt it, Nora,” Jaune placidly replied. Exhaustion and restiveness tread arm-in-arm over the words, his voice somehow falling into a neutral crevice right between the two states.

“Don’t melt it, _Nora_ ,” Yang countered. “Get vented, _captain_.”

“Aw, look, they’re flirting!” Nora sang, but the ‘teasing’ effect was undersold by the proceeding cackle.

“No.” Came a solitary utterance from Blake.

“Nora,” one could hear the grimace in Yang’s tone, “If that passes as flirting for you, then I’m seriously worried about Ren.”

“Eh, he can take it,” the ginger shrugged, logging another case of dust crystals.

Jaune made a worried, strangled sound. “No, the human body cannot survive the vacuum of space, _Nora_!” He informed, coming off like a worried teacher whose students started asking about the flammability of everyday household objects: Horrified and spent simultaneously.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant and you know it!” She groaned, irked, like she were the one doing the lecturing. “Besides-”

“Uhm-” Yang started.

“Do we really _know_ that?” Nora queried. “Can’t be sure ‘til you try it.”

Absolute silence, the quiet eternity of the void, reigned for a moment.

“Nora, trust me, we as a species are pretty certain.” Jaune calmly vouched.

“If you say so, boss!” Giggling to herself, Nora finished logging the last few cases in the container. Back out in the hold she halted as a service drone puttered past, gripping several heavy cases with its mechanical arms. “Attagirl, Jess,” she patted the machine, adorned with the name ‘Jess’ in big bright letters, as she went by. Another drone came near on the way to pick up its next load. “Keep it up, Bailey!” She cheered it on, this one similarly tagged with its name in a decorative display.

“You too, Nora,” she added softly, pulling out the scanner as she settled back into her routine.

|***|

Ruby flopped onto her bunk with a soft ‘oof’, now alone in her pit. The room was fairly barren, in terms of personal effects. She hadn’t exactly had time to make it _her own_ yet. A handful of tools scattered about, some small personal projects that she liked to tinker with in her off time, a private terminal, and.. not much else of note. It hadn’t been assigned until they officially signed her onto the crew, so it was brand and shiny new. In time that would change, but for now it was a fresh start. Mostly. Discounting the aforementioned bits.

The little she’d glimpsed of some of the other rooms showed definite signs of life. Everything from painted walls, to tapestries, holo-projected decals, some personal furnishings, and even more. This wasn’t like a pit on a transport ship, where your quarters were temporary and expected to remain untouched. Along with the creds that assigned the pit as belonging to one Ruby Rose came the unspoken, but very apparent, permission to do with it as she wished. It was a matter of.. getting those amenities.

Ruby already had some ideas. Like maybe a folding workbench so she wouldn’t need to flit back and forth between the workshop _too_ often. While she doubted taking some of the tools wasn’t technically forbidden, she figured short-term borrowing was about the extent of her leeway. Or.. maybe ‘hoped’ was a better word for her expectations.

That was all in the future though. At present…

It felt good to be out of that ship – hell, out of her suit, too. The inner and outermost layers were antimicrobial, and to a further degree self cleaning. All it took for the thing to ‘freshen up’ was open it, hang it up, and let it air. She’d just hit the shower, too, and was feeling overall much better. It had been a long uneasy day, both her mind and body were suffering the cost. The stress had coiled in her muscles, tightening them like rusted springs, and her head felt like a lead weight. She twisted about a little, enough that she could go through some simple stretches without needing to bother with that whole ‘standing up’ nonsense.

All-in-all, if she had to rate the experience so far, it.. wasn’t _bad_? More exhausting than she had anticipated, and not for the reasons she would have guessed. Although, that assumed this experience was a touchstone to gauge the whole job by, and something pricked at her brain in a way to suggest she shouldn’t be basing her opinion on _this_ run. The way everyone reacted to the size of the ship alone did seem to suggest it wasn’t normal. It definitely didn’t _feel_ normal, that was for damn sure.

She hugged a knee to her chest, relaxing her shoulders and neck. Pressing a bit more firmly, she rotated her knee slowly, counted down, then switched legs.

The other thing that kept coming back to her was what Pyrrha said. What, and _how_. The defensive insistence, out of _nowhere_ , kept replaying in her head. No matter how much Ruby attempted to quash it, the memory stayed stubbornly in place. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe she wanted to find reason to believe the redhead? Or maybe because she knew it was a sign. A sign that they probably expected little of her, and she needed to prove herself. To prove that she could be an asset to their operation.

Ruby lifted her leg straight into the air, keeping her back flat. She grasped her thigh with both hands, pulling the leg back, and flexed her other foot. She repeated this with both legs a few times, until she was feeling a little looser.

Did that mean she should be grateful to Pyrrha for at least _feigning_ trust? Being polite, instead of outright disregarding her? It turned out hard to be certain. One one hand it was nice. Nice to feel accepted, to feel like she wasn’t being treated unfairly. However, that was the crux of the matter. The issue in the _other_ hand.

She didn’t want special treatment, and there was only one reason any of them would see reason to give her any: Yang. Her sister was head of the away team, a skilled combatant, and obviously they all trusted her. To put it bluntly, they _respected_ her. So of course when Yang nominated her little sister for the team they weren’t going to go hard on her sibling. Whether it was to keep Yang off their back, or more likely as a courtesy.

Ruby stretched out on her back, palms flat beside her. She took a deep breath, pressed her hands into the bunk and arched her back, lifted her shoulders, tilted her head. She kept her legs straight and taught, holding the pose.

Maybe it wasn’t worth getting worked up over, but if she wanted to keep doing this – and for now, she really did – then she would have to step up to the challenge. Push herself, apply her skills; be _valuable_. She wasn’t totally without resources, despite what the annoying voices challenging her confidence tried to say. While it was true she wasn’t a twidget, she knew the basics. She should have checked the terminal, just in case, not stood there staring at it helplessly like she’d been spaced. Anxiety aside, she wasn’t stupid. She could poke a little, keep an eye out for security restrictions. See if there was the slightest information to glean.

At the very least, she should have looked to see if _it was powered_.

That would likely have been it. Chances were the terminal was on standby while the ship worked off emergency stores, and wouldn’t have let her any further than looking at a notification informing her to restore power. Given the state of the ship she should have gone with the logical assumption that the main database would be inaccessible until the Bomb was primed. A quick check. A couple of taps, shake of her head, then move on. Done. Like a reliable operator, and not a scared child.

Ruby rolled to one side, head propped on a hand, and one leg straight. She took hold of the other leg and pulled it back as far as she could. After a little bit she rolled over, repeating on the opposite side.

What else then? Being overeager wasn’t the right move. She needed to be smart about this. Be proactive. She’d been following orders, keeping in line, and watching for trouble just fine. Now she needed to take initiative; look for ways she could apply her skills. Without rushing ahead and abandoning her position, just be more perceptive. Like with those maintenance hatches. She could have at least offered to pop them open and take a look inside, on the off chance there was anything noteworthy. The cramped spaces didn’t bother her, especially when she had a rifle out in front and backup waiting behind. That was the sort of mindset she had to grasp onto.

Ruby flipped onto her belly, arms extended in front. Keeping her lower body anchored, she gradually moved her hands back, raising her torso, not stopping until she could feel strain on her abs. She relaxed her shoulders, stretched her neck, and let her head loll gently back.

Well, she had a plan; or at least a guideline. All that remained was following it up with action.

Ruby winced, releasing the position with a choked “ _G_ _uh_!” and flopped flat, face acquainting with her pillow.

|***|

“No, it’s actually.. turning out pretty good,” Jaune thunked a mug onto the dining table. Steam coiled off the dark elixir sloshing within, filling the galley with a rich, singular aroma. This was what some spacers liked to call a ‘cup of mud’. So named because it was a particularly thick, earthy brown coffee, and likewise strong. It wasn’t _real_ coffee, per se, but a genetically modified offshoot designed for quick growth, large harvests, and long shelf life.

A facsimile that was later _further_ treated by having the grounds processed into crystals for increased longevity. If your measure of quality was taste, then it wouldn’t be getting any awards. A common description painted the experience of drinking it as akin to swallowing hot, thinned out sludge. It was cheap, did the job, and was therefore deemed acceptable – more so by spacers than terrans. Ordinarily growing real coffee was the privilege of people with very heavy bank accounts, oftentimes accompanied by shiny private vessels.

The same went for Blake’s preference: Tea.

That was another, account-siphoning story though.

The faunus had learned to live with what the industry termed “dissolvable _compressence_ ”.

Yang and Pyrrha sat across the table, the latter leaning forward propped by her elbows, the former tipping her chair back precariously. The two women looked downright imposing fully kitted out, and that impression did _not_ change when outside their rigs. Both boasted impressive builds, differing based on a couple of factors. Yang was a little broader. About five-foot-eight, she was sturdy and powerful like a rock. Roughly 72 kilos of hard-hitting muscle and fiery ferocity. Pyrrha, standing at six feet even, had a leaner looking frame, but still came in around 80 kilos. Suffice it to say, either of them could likely snap Jaune in half if they ever got such an inclination.

Thankfully for him, and the rest of the known galaxy, they were two of the kindest people he had ever met. He was also quite keen to not piss them off, so that also worked in his favor.

“Those crates filled with goodies?” Yang asked, right before biting into a nutrient bar. A whole meal’s worth of energy packed into a soft, caramel colored brick. Like most of a spacer’s rations, it followed the trend of keeping forever and not tasting too bad. Didn’t taste great either, but hey.

“Raw materials mostly.” Jaune grinned and added, “So far. Lots of containers left to go through.”

Pyrrha cocked a brow. “What.. _sort_ of materials?”

“Metals, minerals, dust; you name it. It’s all unmarked, too, which will make offloading it a cinch.” He sounded almost giddy, but that might have been the caffeine together with a lack of sleep. He’d been awake for a _long_ time. Something the two women were readily aware of.

“You are.. going to get some sleep soon, yes?” Pyrrha asked, looking between him and the coffee.

Jaune blinked, pausing mid-sip. “Mm? Oh,” he wiped his mouth, “Yeah, now that you guys are back. It doesn’t feel right, sleeping while you’re on the job.” He did appear far more at ease now that the away team was safely aboard again. Even so, the side effects of the preceding stress were quite readily visible in his eyes and stature.

“Appreciate the thought,” Yang pointed her ‘meal’ at the fellow blonde, “But you can always put Ren on the horn.”

“Assuming _he_ has rested, of course,” Pyrrha tagged on, nudging Yang.

“Yeah, that,” she agreed emphatically, giving the redhead a look that read somewhere along the lines of, ‘ _See, I can be thoughtful, too!_ ’

Pyrrha rolled her eyes, but didn’t bother hiding her smile. “Any issues moving cargo over?”

“Mm-mm,” Jaune was practically inhaling his drink. “We’ve got some drones on transfer rota. They can carry a lot of the stuff through the gangway just fine. Ren’s been logging the new inventory.”

“Riveting,” Yang drawled between bites.

“Ah,” Pyrrha leaned forward, folding her hands atop the table. “I’ve been wondering.. but I didn’t exactly want to ask while we were still aboard. It felt.. wrong, then. But.. do we _know_ what happened to this ship? Who it belonged to, where it was going?” She hesitated, eyes darting up and down. “What happened to the crew?”

Yang coughed, pounding her chest. “That’s-” Another cough, she raised a finger.

Jaune and Pyrrha exchanged a glance.

The blockage dealt with, Yang took a swig of water. “Ah.. ha.. right, that. I’ve been wondering the same thing.” She set the bar down for the time being. “No bodies anywhere, so.. maybe they got away when.. whatever went wrong, y’know, _went_?” She splayed her hands, as if physically presenting the theory. “ _W_ _hatever_ that actually was? I mean, ship’s intact, so it’s not like the Bomb went off. Nothing saying the drive was acting lurky, and this is a big ship.” Her expression went dour. “You haven’t picked up any-

“ _No_!” Jaune staunchly asserted. “I don’t care what the pay might be like, if we’d picked up benthons here we’d have gotten _out_.”

Yang nodded, looking satisfied with his sincerity. “Okay, just making sure,” she raised her hands in surrender.

“It could have been an atmospheric failure,” Pyrrha suggested, getting things back on track. “Or the power. Perhaps an issue with the reactor that we can’t detect because it’s offline?”

Yang drummed her fingers on the table. “Got a feeling that’s.. not it.”

“How come?” Pyrrha tilted her head quizzically, turning to the other woman.

“Oh, uhm.. right.” She shook herself, and leaned forward, palms bracing her. “This ship’s huge, and packing some serious tech. Whoever operated it was loaded. A hold chock full of glitter’s just bonus points. So life support, or a hull breach? Everyone tucks in, they fix the problem. You’re telling me a boat that big, loaded with resources, wasn’t damn near self-sufficient? Lots of spare parts, or able to make ‘em? Even we can fix a basic breach, or just seal the compartments if it’s bad enough.”

Pyrrha rubbed her chin. “Hm.. so, maybe not atmosphere. What about the power?”

Yang waggled a hand in a so-so manner. “Kinda the same answer. Difference is there wouldn’t be power _at all_. If your Bomb’s about to go off, then you shut it down. The ship doesn’t have a giant hole in it, so no meltdown. Traces of power left, too. It looks like what happens when an automated shutdown kicks in to conserve energy.”

Jaune’s mug stopped halfway to his lips. “That.. doesn’t that suggest it was sitting here long enough to almost run out of fuel? How could that have happened, apart from the crew abandoning ship? There were bound to be reserve stores, and it’s possible they had a fuel scoop if they didn’t want to bother hitting a starport.” He tapped the table for a second, looking off in contemplation. “So crew vanishes, ship eventually goes into emergency mode. Still doesn’t answer our question: _Why_ did they leave?”

Yang ran a hand through her hair, tossing it out. “Come on guys, everyone’s heard of ghost ships. People find boats with no one on ‘em, or the whole crew’s dead for gods-only-know why. Just.. never on this scale.”

Pyrrha shivered, feeling goosebumps race across her skin. “Ah.. Jaune, were you told-”

“Nope,” he sighed, looking much more tense than he had moments before. “I was given coordinates, told to check it out, and tag it if it was worthwhile.” He shrugged. “It’s.. I didn’t know it was unmarked. That there weren’t bodies. And I don’t know if the ship’s boats were deployed. Can’t tell. No obvious empty docks, and I’m not familiar with the design in the first place.” He cupped both hands around his mug, letting the remaining warmth flow into his skin.

“Have you tried asking since we arrived?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. Didn’t really have a reason to, until you noticed how lurky it looks.” He stared down into the thick drink, brow knit pensively. “Do you guys wanna bail?”

Yang’s eyes went wide. “Whoa, just like that?”

Jaune sighed, but didn’t look up. “This is starting to feel.. wrong. Like, _something_ is off. Twisted. I haven’t even been on that ship and I can feel it, like it’s rubbed off on you guys.” His eyes lifted, flicking between the two women. “Means you’re definitely getting that vibe.”

Yang shrugged. “Pff. Well, yeah?”

“So far we haven’t encountered anything dangerous,” Pyrrha elaborated, seeing as her partner declined to. “Backing out now feels hasty.”

“’Sides, I’m keen to know what the hell’s going on,” Yang apprised. “It’s weird, but.. way more exciting than our usual jobs.”

Jaune took another sip, using the opportunity to collect his thoughts. “We could just clear the hold. If the rest of the cargo is anything like what we’ve grabbed so far, we’ll get a good haul, and-”

“And then what?” Yang cut in, brow cocked.

“Uh…” Jaune stared, confusion etched across his face.

Yang rolled her eyes. “You’re worried, I get it. That’s fine. But our job’s to check the ship, take what we can, and see if it’s clear for someone else to come claim.”

Pyrrha nodded, picking up the blonde’s train of thought. “If there _is_ something dangerous, and we’ve simply not found it, whoever purchases the rights might take losses. We’ll be penalized.”

“And if we jet now with a belly full of cargo and _no relay_ to the office, they’re gonna get suspicious. Think we loaded up and ran, shirking the contract.” She drew an X on the wood. “Black mark on our record. Means shit jobs, if we get jobs at all. That’s _after_ they fine us, right?”

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah… No, yeah, you’re…” His shoulders sagged, and suddenly he looked far more tired than he had a moment ago. Barely propped up by the caffeine he’d been sucking down for who knew how many hours.

Pyrrha’s eyes hardened, but she spoke gently. “You should try and wave them after you sleep. See if the office knows anything.”

“Yeah,” Jaune nodded. “Could try sending a message, but I feel like this is something better discussed live.”

“So you have a better idea if they’re acting suspicious,” Pyrrha nodded. “Maybe have Ren in the bridge, too. Second set of ears wouldn’t hurt.”

“Right.” Jaune took another sip, the warm drink offering a touch of solace.

“What if that clues ‘em in?” Yang asked, looking between the other two calculatingly.

Jaune blinked. “Uhm.. come again?”

“What if you go in and ask. They wanna know why you’re worried. ‘Oh,’” she put on an awful impression of their captain, “‘Ghost ship with no markings. Crew’s gone. Might be Atlesian.’ Then they know we’re using our brains, and send a clean-up crew to hush us.”

Jaune blinked again, even more lost than before. “Do... Are you serious, Yang?”

She shrugged. “Just puttin’ it out there.”

Jaune rolled his eyes. “I doubt it. _But_ , if it makes you feel any better, I’ll try and be.. discreet, okay?”

Pyrrha sighed. “On top of everything else, now we’ve a conspiracy theory.”

Yang picked her bar back up, tapping it against her bottom lip. “Spooky shit.”

“I feel like you’re underselling it,” Pyrrha ribbed. She managed a soft laugh, some of the chill melting away.

“No, I’m being flippant. There’s a difference!” Yang insisted, adding a touch of histrionic intensity.

“We’re bringing Nora with us tomorrow, right?” Another, quieter voice interrupted. Three sets of eyes snapped to the faunus stood at the side of the compartment, hip against the galley countertop and arms crossed.

Jaune ran a hand through his hair, managing to make the blonde locks a bit more loose and unruly than they had been already. “Hi, Blake,” a nervous laugh slipped past his lips. “Forgot you were there.”

“Good,” the raven haired woman replied, hardening her gaze on their captain. They softened after a beat. “Sorry.” Her mouth curved in a roguish smile. “Wasn’t trying to hide.”

Jaune waved her off. “And yeah, Nora’s going with y’all. She’ll see about getting that beast powered again.” He took another sip, training his focus on her. “How come?”

Blake unfolded her arms, producing a squat cylindrical device from the counter behind her. “If we can get power flowing, I’ll try and do some mining. See if there’s anything interesting stored in their system.”

Yang flashed finger guns at the woman, a pair of snaps sounding off in report. “Sweet. Shed a little light maybe.” She shrugged. “Y’know, if we’re lucky.”

“’If’,” Blake repeated in agreement. “In that case I’ll be sure to pack some carts, no telling how much space I might need.” She nodded to her crewmates before flitting back to her pit, Yang waving enthusiastically as she left.

Pyrrha steepled her fingers, hiding behind them bashfully. “I.. didn’t know she was in here?”

Yang threw her head back, belting out a peal of uproarious laughter.

“Oh, stop it!” The redhead implored, her cheeks warming with chagrin.

The sound of Jaune’s chair scraping the deck drew their attention. “Right, you two should probably rest up.”

Yang, recovered from her outburst, raised a brow. “Didn’t you say-”

“I will,” he swiftly assured. “Need to check on a few things up front, then I’m out.” Chugging the last of the coffee, he disappeared down the passageway.

Yang leaned back in her chair, staring beyond the bulkhead. “Really don’t know what to make of this one, Pyr.”

“It certainly is odd,” the redhead nodded. “Nothing adds up. What we’ve seen so far, the ship looks in good condition. Maybe when we check the reactor tomorrow we’ll find something, or on the bridge…” She trailed off, staring at the table while lost in thought.

“S’long as we stay smart, chances are we’ll be fine,” Yang gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t let it eat you up, Pyr.”

Pyrrha hummed, eyes flicking to the blonde. “Easier said than done, I’m afraid,” she smiled forlornly.

“Yeah, but the more you _think_ about it the worse it gets,” Yang drew idle circles on the table. “If you keep getting lured back, then try and find something to take your mind off it.”

“Like drink?” Pyrrha morosely joked, the disdain evident both in her tone and on her face.

Yang’s eyes went cold, and she grit her teeth. “No,” she answered after a short pause, her whole being deflated.

Pyrrha’s eyes widened, and she reached out, about to say something, when Yang continued.

“You.. distract yourself. I like to work out. Blake reads, or.. maybe meditates or something, I dunno.” She laughed, a spark of her fire reignited, slowly regaining strength. “Find something you enjoy, and pour yourself into that instead. Sometimes sleeping,” she waggled her brow, “Can help. Or eating. Hunger does crazy things to your mood.”

Yang paused, looked around the galley, then back at Pyrrha. “Actually, you eat anything yet?”

Pyrrha was at a moment’s loss. “Hm? Oh… No, I was planning to wait until after going to bed.”

Yang snapped her fingers. “Nope, none of that. I know you’re nervous, but you’ve gotta keep your strength up.”

The redhead blinked. “Uhm.. what are you…?” She watched as the blonde shot to her feet and rummaged through cabinets, pulling out a box here, a pouch there, and a jar for good measure, tossing them onto the counter. “Yang! You don’t need to cook something for me, really!” A soft laugh underscored her objection, giving Yang no reason to pay any heed.

“I’ll just whip some scradge up quick. Better than that thing,” she pointed to the nutrient bar, “That’s for damn sure.” She slid a pan onto the stove, cranking up a burner with the flick of a finger. A couple of scoops from the pouch, a shake of the box, a sprinkling from the jar, and a dash of water to add some very necessary moisture. She gave it a stir, and as the mixture started to simmer her expression turned. She wasn’t satisfied yet. “Needs.. something else…” She pondered aloud, back to sifting through the cabinets.

“This is hardly necessary, Yang,” Pyrrha tried again. Her stomach growled, and the blonde snickered as her face flushed. “Don’t laugh! It.. it smells very good. I wouldn’t be having this problem if you-”

“Oh, shush,” Yang pulled out a spice jar, adding a pinch of something dried, dark green, and ground to flakes. It mixed easily into the dish, and almost immediately the aroma shifted, a new piquancy filling the air. After another couple of minutes to ensure everything was good and thoroughly prepped she scraped it onto a plate, grabbed a spoon, and slid it in front of Pyrrha, grinning proudly. “There ya go!” She announced, hands on hips.

Pyrrha tried to avert her gaze, using her hand to hide her blush under the guise of tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. “There was no need to go out of your way-”

Yang rolled her eyes, leaning against the dining table. “Are you gonna try ‘this is such a waste of rations’ next, or are you gonna dig in?”

Pyrrha peered at her through the corner of her eye. Slowly, she straightened and took a bite. Nothing spacers had access to on average could be called gourmet. Extremely _hearty_ in terms of energy and nutritional value, but not fine dining. Even so, by some fey means Yang knew the right way to bring a hint of life to the dull, artificial-tasting ingredients. A secret she hadn’t uncovered herself. “Thank you,” she muttered, going for a second bite.

Yang’s face lit up. “Don’t mention it.”


	5. Empyrean Excavation

Ruby’s eyes snapped open.

Her chest was heaving. The relentless thudding in her ears, she reckoned, was her pulse. Rushing blood, pumping adrenaline. Everything was swimming in a dreadful mire, emotion and dream and reality intermingling into an aberration that had draped across her brain. Slowly, oh so very slowly, her senses made their return. They crept, as if apologetically, cleaning up the mess her subconscious had made as she slept. It was like going out for a few hours only to find the kids had thrown a party.

It took a few seconds after self awareness resurfaced to realize her skin was coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Her muscles were locked, the entire organic system going through the cycle of shock, contending with a threat that didn’t exist. She could only look about her pit, reorienting herself; proving to her brain that she was really and truly safe. Even if the phantom traces of her nightmare were still flashing behind her eyes.

As soon as she recovered some semblance of motor function, she weakly fumbled her scroll from under her pillow, thumb flicking the power. That was a mistake. She hissed, mumbling disparaging claims in regards to her own intelligence, and averted the device and its scorching effulgence until her eyes adjusted to the jarring brightness. Tentatively she glanced at the screen, and, when it didn’t sear her retinas, brought it closer for inspection.

Nearly four hours and a quarter ‘til their next shift.

And from the way she felt, the chances of getting back to sleep now were.. slim.

“Oh, boy…” She groaned, rubbing a hand over her face, sweeping the sleep from her eyes during the same motion. Pocketing her scroll, Ruby flung off the blanket and staggered to her feet. Still somewhat wobbly, she resorted to shambling in order to remain upright rather than get nice and personal with the deck.

A thought occurred that her hair was likely in something of a.. state. Not like she ever kept it neat in the first place, so she flicked that thought on the nose for its insubordination- because what did _she_ care?- and shuffled out into the commons. At least the lighting was gentler than her own scroll, that accursed thing, so she didn’t go reeling back through her doorway like a vampire struck by a lethal spear of sunlight.

The commons was arranged in an ovoid fashion. The head and showers closest the aft, and the quarters arranged port and starboard. Ten rooms, seven currently occupied. Or.. maybe six? Ruby wasn’t sure what Nora and Ren’s, erm, _situation_ was. She hadn’t asked yet either. It also wasn’t on her docket for future conversation starters. Back on track: The rest of the compartment was relaxed. Several old, comfy looking chairs and a big, worn couch in the middle, all facing a broad TV theater system. It was rigged to receive AstraCast signals, along with being hooked up to some gaming decks. Those brought a smile to Ruby’s face.

It felt like a living room, which was probably the intention, and just radiated.. well, _home_. Same as the galley. This wasn’t just a company ship, this was where people lived. That had always been a major separation between spacers and sailors. The latter might spend a lot of time aboard vessels, but they _lived_ planetside; terrans. Spacers lived and worked in the void, usually only visiting planets to resupply or for temporary jobs.

Ruby went over her options. If she were lucky, maybe she could relax enough to get another couple hours in before they disembarked back into what she was beginning to think of as the ‘ _ark of the dead_ ’. That required two things. One was the TV, so she mentally checked that box. The other was snacks. That required venturing a bit further to complete her quest, so into the galley she went.

Only to find she wasn’t the only one awake.

Blake was sat in one of the dining chairs, legs tucked under her, an e-book and steaming cup of.. something on the table in front of her.

Ruby came to an immediate halt. More accurately she almost stumbled forward, nearly lost her balance and wobbled a little, before daintily setting her foot back on the deck. The very embodiment of stealth, she told herself. Exhaling, quiet as a mouse, she started to rethink her plans. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb the quiet woman, especially after what happened in the archive. Ruby figured she could forego snacks, and turned-

“Don’t leave on my account,” a soft voice interjected.

Ruby winced, peering sidelong to see that Blake.. was still staring at her book. She blinked, befuddled, and took a few tentative steps deeper into the galley. “Sorry, didn’t wanna bother you,” she wrung her hands, glancing at the cabinets, wondering what was stored where.

Blake shrugged. “This isn’t my bunk, so I can’t really object.” She looked up, a wry smirk curling one corner of her mouth. “Not that I feel like it anyway.” She lifted her cup, blowing lightly at the steaming contents. “You aren’t exactly stealthy, by the way.”

“Ah-ha.. yeah, no kidding,” Ruby giggled awkwardly. She bit her lip, looking back and forth from the faunus to the galley, before scurrying over to the array of food storage. The sense of intrusion was still overwhelming, like she had interrupted a routine that maybe Blake went through on most of their runs. Now here she was, getting right in the middle of it and being a general nuisance. Blake sounded like she didn’t care, but…

A flash of her conversation with Pyrrha played in her mind, tugging uncomfortably at her insides.

“So.. early riser, or.. can’t sleep?” She stammered out, desperate to alleviate some of the nervous tension.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Blake curtly replied. That was that. No elaboration, no query in return.

“Same,” Ruby said, digging through a cabinet. It looked like it mostly contained things that needed cooking, and she wasn’t in the mood to make this into a whole ordeal. Even a quick meal just felt like way too much effort than she was willing to put forward. She wracked her mind for something else to say, but her conversational skills had always.. actually, Ruby was pretty sure she didn’t have those. The harder she concentrated on trying to think of what words to put together into an order that made sense, and would furthermore be harmless, the more she slowed in her original quest.

Until she nearly stopped entirely, staring at a box of something she didn’t want, while her thoughts turned to white noise.

Blake looked over, eyebrow arched. “Is something the matter?”

Ruby flinched. “Uhm!” She squeaked. _She’s onto me! Panic! No wait,_ don’t _do tha_ -

“Let me guess,” you could hear the eye roll in her voice, “You’re thinking, ’That’s rich coming from her’, right?”

Fear bled to confusion, and Ruby slowly craned her neck to look back at the faunus. “What?”

The dark-haired woman scoffed. “After what happened earlier, in the ship? Now here I am, asking if you’re the one with something eating at them.”

“Oh-oh,” Ruby stuttered. Okay, from confusion right back to awkward tension.

Blake watched the girl for a moment, then tilted her head quizzically. “You aren’t going to ask about that?”

Ruby shook her head. “No- I mean, of course not!” She faced the woman, a box of dehydrated vegetables clutched close to her chest.

Blake tipped her head the other way, keeping silent.

Ruby internally noted that the faunus’ ears were perked, each twisting a different direction.

“Whatever it was.. it sounded serious, but I’m not gonna pry. That’d be a real di- _ah_ , I mean!” Her face flushed. “That would.. be selfish.”

“’Selfish’?” The woman’s eyes widened a fraction.

“Well, yeah,” Ruby snorted, relaxing her stance a little. “Someone’s upset about something, so lemme just go and _jam_ myself into their space because I’m a complete tube!” She pursed her lips, a look of annoyance flitting across her face. “It’s cool to, y’know, _ask_ if they wanna talk, but.. that’s something you’ve gotta be real about. Because if they say ‘no’, then that’s it. Let ‘em come around, right?” She drummed her fingers along the box, eyes going askance. “Pull too hard you might only hurt them.”

Blake watched as Ruby, who finally noticed she was still holding onto a box she didn’t need, remembered her goal and went back to looking for a quick meal. A smile touched Blake’s lips, one that reached the deeps of her eyes; sincere appreciation. She wasn’t too surprised, this _was_ Yang’s sister, but judging someone based purely on their lineage was what Yang, and other spacers, might call ‘a slack brain’. Or something like that, she wasn’t too sure herself. Spacer lingo was.. well, she wasn’t a spacer.

So, while it might not have been a surprise, it was certainly a pleasant confirmation. The sisters definitely shared some traits. Among them being kindness and patience. Ruby certainly seemed less adept at dealing with people than Yang, but it was sort of endearing. Although Blake didn’t exactly find the idea of someone being scared to talk to her an entertaining one.

Ruby pushed aside a few cartons and grabbed a squat, blue tube and read out, “Folate additive. Nah I’m good.” Then a green box with a colorful label. “Spicy Curry Protein Cubes. Ooh, SatisBite, good brand.” Still a no. “Nutricrave Fruit Powder. Ah.. maybe later. Uh.. Synthible: Flour Substitute, now with fiber _and_ minerals. Nope.” She closed another cabinet, blowing a tuft of hair out of her eyes, and sat there for a second in futile frustration. Another section of their pantry, and she was still empty-handed. With a sigh she went to open the next in line, only to start when a dark figure passed close by. To her surprise, Blake was leaning over her shoulder.

“Uh…” Ruby swallowed. “Need an-”

“That one,” the woman pointed to a door, two down in the row. “Should have something.”

A little mystified, Ruby scooted across the deck and popped open the cabinet. On the shelves were selections of ready-to-eat food. Bars, wafers, even some tubes of basic nutrient paste. Ruby snagged one of the wafer pouches. “Thanks!” She chirped, grinning up at the faunus.

“Don’t mention it.” Blake smiled back, more reservedly, and returned to the table.

Ruby knocked the cabinet shut with her knee and hopped to her feet, already unsealing the pouch. She was halfway to the commons when she paused. Thinking back over their exchange, and her own internal wrestling match, she decided to take a plunge.

“Uhm, Blake?” She turned only halfway, too anxious to face the faunus head on.

“Hm?” Came the curt acknowledgment.

“I know that.. uh, what I mean is we’ve met a few times before I took this job, right?”

“Yes,” she affirmed, unable to keep an amused smile from her lips. “I’m not so easy to forget, am I?” The amusement reached her voice, making the younger girl’s face flush.

Ruby waved her hands emphatically. “No, not at all! But, I was wondering if.. I could ask you a question? It.. it might sound stupid, but.. you asked _me_ if there was anything wrong, and.. and there kind of- I mean, I don’t know if I’d say _wrong_ really, that might be a bit too far. But I am kinda worried-”

“Ruby,” Blake caught the girl’s attention, raising her voice just enough to be heard. “Breathe. Relax,” she calmly instructed. “Whatever’s bothering you, feel free to ask. I don’t mind.”

“Right. Sorry…” Ruby took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. She spoke slowly, piecing the words together so they wouldn’t end up a shambles. “Have you been.. well, just tolerating me? Since I’m.. since I’m Yang’s sister?”

“Hm,” Blake’s face was inscrutable as she observed the younger girl. The way she stared, keeping her silence for what felt agonizingly like forever, was perplexing to say the least. Whatever the faunus was mulling over, it sent worry swimming around in the brunette’s stomach. “You could.. say that, after a fashion. Not for your sister’s sake.”

Ruby’s brain nearly shorted. What did that mean? She attempted to voice as much, but the words just wouldn’t come. Thankfully Blake elucidated.

“You could say I’m tolerating you _because_ you’re new,” she said. “Tolerating.. as in, waiting to see how you do. We may have met before, but we never got to know each other.” Blake sipped her tea, giving the girl a moment to digest her words. “So, I’m learning. Watching. Giving you a chance to show me- all of us, really- who you are. What you can do. I’m trying to be.. impartial.”

Ruby felt a swell of something indescribable in her chest. It rushed through her veins, filling her brain with fuzzy, delightful hopes. “So.. it’s not because of my sister?” She asked again, almost as if she couldn’t believe it.

“It’s not because of Yang,” Blake reiterated with a gentle laugh.

“That’s-” Ruby caught herself, right on the brink of letting her brain dump words freely out her mouth again. “I’m.. I won’t disappoint you, Blake. And thanks.. for giving me a chance.” Grinning up a storm, Ruby popped a wafer into her mouth and made for the commons.

“Nice hair, by the way,” Blake added.

Ruby skidded to a stop, shooting the faunus a look that was equal parts chagrin and mirth. “New style, I’m hoping it’ll be all the rage.” After tossing the haphazardly splayed locks into an even more impressive mess, she inhaled another wafer and went about her business.

Blake chuckled, turning her eyes to the overhead in silent prayer. “Now there’s two of them,” she muttered under her breath. “What am I ever going to do?”

|***|

Breakfast was a meager affair.

Ruby had no idea what ‘mornings’ were usually like aboard the _Juniper_ , but now it looked as though Nora was the only crewmate unaffected by the thought of the hulk tethered to their sloop. Despite plenty of time to rest, there was something under everyone else’s skin that had them on edge; drained. Ruby felt it too, of course, more so when she imagined actually boarding that colossus again.

She tried to wash down some of that apprehension with an ample draught of coffee. She loaded hers with sweetener. Partly preference, she’d say, in that she _preferred_ not to drink what tasted like roasted soil, thanks much. The meal itself was a sight better: A plate of something enriched and fashioned to look and feel like pancakes – not quite taste, no surprise there. It was also a bit too doughy in consistency, but only Nora – again, no surprise – had the intent to bemoan the lackluster imitation. The important part was it offered lots of nutrients and energy for the day ahead. There was also a syrup stand-in, a supplemental disguised as the traditional accompaniment to the dish being simulated here.

Ruby looked around the table, trying to be as discreet as possible while getting an idea of how her teammates were faring. Yang looked steady as ever, but Ruby knew her sister. She was good at hiding things, usually for the sake of others. Taking on their worries, or at the very least shouldering the effort of washing them away. It made her chest tighten, but she admired that strength all the same. She just.. had to tell herself that Yang knew when to quit. When to take time for _herself_. Hopefully that was the case.

The blonde had taken a seat next to Blake, keeping up a mostly one-sided chat with the dark haired woman. The faunus seemed to enjoy the company, if the way she kept shooting Yang smiles every now and again was any indicator, but she almost never responded. Ruby tried not to think of that as rude; maybe most of her input was visual? Perhaps those looks _were_ answers, or there was something else that would key the blonde in on her thoughts. Yang definitely acted like this was normal, but then again.. the aforementioned disquiet tugged on Ruby’s heartstrings.

Pyrrha, bless, was _trying_.

When the redhead wasn’t exchanging some jab with Yang, she was practically the sole focus of Nora’s attention. Ruby cringed a little internally at that. Usually it was a toss up between Ren and someone else, but right now Ren was at the reins. So.. Pyrrha had Nora rota. It wasn’t that Nora was obnoxious or annoying, but more.. a _lot_. An endless supply of vigor coursed through her to the point where _she_ could likely power their ship if the Bomb went cold. A part of Ruby wanted to try and interject, just to siphon some of that energy and spare Pyrrha the full force.

Two problems with that. One: Ruby didn’t really know _what_ to say. It wasn’t even like she was overthinking her options, she _just didn’t know_! Two: Anytime she tried to, or so much as seriously considered getting involved, she felt something immediately dragging her spirits back down. It was like her insides were tied to a weight, bobbing up and down in a pool of deep, stagnant water.

Even thoughts of Pyrrha’s ‘admission’ from yesterday had faded in the shadow of their impending disembarking. She stuffed another heavy, saccharine-soaked wedge of breakfast into her mouth, and tried to focus on eating instead of the incorrigible fear eating _her_.

“So, who’s ready to get rich?” Yang clapped her hands together, grinning as she looked around the table.

Blake, ears folded against the sudden noise, blinked and gave a soft huff. “Don’t you think that’s a little presumptuous?”

Yang propped an arm on the faunus’ chair. “Whaddaya mean?” She turned that sunbeam smile to the far more reserved woman.

“That ‘rich’ is maybe taking our prospects too far?” She replied, giving a little shake of her head as she smiled back.

Nora shot to her feet, an arm thrust skyward. “No such thing as ‘too far’!” She proclaimed with all the ardor of a war cry.

“Nora,” Pyrrha guided the ginger back into her chair, “I’m begging you to reconsider that.”

Blake shook herself. “I’m begging you to lower your voice, please?” Her ears were flattened again.

“Oops,” Nora winced. “Sorry. Slipped my mind. I’ll try and be quieter.” Her voice lowered to a near whisper. From anyone else, that might have come across as patronizing. With Nora, however, she was genuinely trying to be considerate.

“Less shouting will be fine,” Blake consoled.

“Ahem,” Pyrrha pushed her empty plate aside. “What’s the plan for today, exactly?” She directed her attention to Yang.

“Right,” the blonde crossed her arms and leaned back, looking a bit more serious. “We’re taking the route we cleared yesterday. Keep eyes open, but I’m not expecting trouble. Get to the Bomb quick as possible, and see if we can’t light a fire in our girl’s belly.” She nodded to Nora. “That’s why you’re coming with us this time.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “What, can’t prime it yourselves?” She shot a challenging smile.

“I’m not sure we’d know _how_ ,” Ruby finally spoke up, surprising even herself. When everyone looked at her, she shrank a little. “Just.. ‘cause of the tech and all. No telling what they’ve got to pump their power.”

Nora’s brow raised. “Wait,” she drawled. “’Tech’? What’s going on?” She demanded.

Yang opened her mouth, but stopped, and motioned to her sister instead, a sort of ‘not my job’ look on her face.

Ruby nodded. “Uh.. yeah, so, this boat’s packing some.. old worlds hardware,” she explained, still cowed under the full attention of her teammates. “But, it could just be for computing. Bomb might be standard. We didn’t get that far, so.. who knows.” She shrugged limply.

Nora hummed, eyes narrowed in patently nondescript pensiveness. She might be about to pout, get excited, _explode_.. it was impossible to tell, and Nora herself was probably just as uncertain while mulling over the information. After a few tense moments of watching, the ginger finally snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “Computers are cool, but not my thing. I like bits, bobs, and machine guts.”

Blake glanced at Yang. “Does she have to word it like that?” Her eyes were drawn back across the table by a – comparatively – soft banging.

Nora, fist pressed to the wood, stared hard at the faunus. “Yes,” she asserted with dire seriousness.

“Okay then.” Blake numbly accepted this, and turned back to finishing her meal.

“So, you guys see anything else cool in there?” Nora switched back to her usual vim, looking eagerly around the table.

Breakfast ended shortly thereafter, and everyone went to prep for the day’s workload. Once they’d all tucked in, kitted out, and reconvened at the airlock it was finally go-time. Plus-plus one, this time.

Ruby still marveled at how much gear Nora was toting around. Her rig made it all work, of course, it was set up to help her haul around a ton of extra supplies. It was.. it was just _so much_ , and Nora was kind of.. short.

The little ginger could probably bench press one of their drones, but that was beside the point.

Again they crossed into the dead ship, and again Ruby felt that prickling urgency to _leave_. Like she had to step through a thick membrane to even enter the derelict, the remains stubbornly clinging to her as dead weight. Nora went ahead of her, since the twidget lacked _proper_ weapons she was being escorted. Two behind, and two in front. Even if Blake’s position was technically more somewhere nearby, wherever she thought was best. One extra head did make this trek feel different, like by experiencing this with them a little of their collective tension could be shared by another.

It also helped that Nora just kept talking.

“I was trying to figure out how much Quartite would bust those crates,” she explained, a skip in her step as she trailed behind Yang. “Just running some ideas around the ol’ noodle. Wasn’t actually gonna risk mucking up the goods. It’d be a lot faster than cutting the locks though.”

“Because there wouldn’t be a lock _left_ , I think,” Pyrrha offered.

“Exactly!” Nora whipped around, pointing excitedly at her fellow redhead.

Ruby was surprised that it didn’t interrupt her momentum at all, she kept moving backwards as easily as she did the right way ‘round.

“Nora,” Yang sighed, “The Quartite’s for emergencies. Not to make busting open cargo go quicker.”

“Pff, with _that_ many containers? Please!” Nora laughed. “That was definitely an emergency, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

“You used it on a door though,” Ruby reminded.

Nora blinked. “Oh! Right, I did, didn’t I?”

Ruby, eyes widening, glanced at Blake, who offered only a sympathetic shrug.

There was a small part of Ruby’s mind, a teeny voice in the very hinterlands of conscious thought, that yelled at her to tell Nora the door could have been opened with a simple lever. She decided that voice was just as tiny as it sounded, and stomped on it. With a bit of annoying ego quashed, the only thing she had left to currently contend with was, oh _yes_ , the unceasing anxiety.

|***|

Ren silently ascended the passageway into the saddle, eyes transfixed on a datapad, yet his situational awareness hardly suffered, if at all. Inventory logs, projected fuel efficiency, along with a host of minor repair tickets scrawled down the screen in lines of white-on-black text. He tapped an icon at the side, the notes vanished, and he replaced them with a file on ammunition stores. Free hand dancing over the keypad, he paused when a second set of crisp key-clacking reached his ears.

“Hm.” He folded the pad and stowed it on his belt, entering the cockpit no less quietly than before. It wasn’t that he intended to ‘sneak’, as he had nothing to hide, but there were occasions when inconspicuousness served to keep him abreast of the state of things. It wasn’t spying, as he had explained in the past, it was keeping an ear to the ground.

“My crew and I are worried about the state of- no, they’d just tell us that’s our job.” Furious clicking. “Uhm.. we were.. er, uh, _are_ ,” more clicks, “Wondering if there were any available records on the mark. Hm.. should I say it’s.. unsettling, or would that be too…”

Jaune was leaned back in his seat, staring at an auxiliary terminal, the screen currently occupied by what might amount to ‘scribbled thoughts’ were he using pen and paper instead. Jotted notes, suggested queries, reminders not to sound _too_ anxious or curious. He was taking this very seriously.

“Maybe you’re overthinking this, captain,” Ren said, earning a frantic gasp from the blonde.

Jaune peered tersely around the edge of his seat, one blue eye staring hard at the other man. “Ren,” his voice cracked, the eye twitched. “Morning.”

He tipped his head in greeting.

Jaune sunk back into the chair, sighing loudly. “Do you _have_ to do that?”

“I’ve said before, I-”

“’I’m not sneaking up on you.’ Yeah, yeah.” Jaune rubbed at his eyes. “All right, captain’s order.” Then, after adding under his breath, “Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner,” he turned openly to Ren. “Knock, okay? Just,” he rapped his knuckles on the console, then pointed to the bulkhead. “Please? My life’s shortened enough as it is. Don’t shave off any more years than you have to.” That said, he slumped into place once more.

Only to hear a soft knocking of bone against metal.

“You’re so f-” he took a deep breath, and stared silently out into space for a few seconds. “Mind giving me a hand?”

“Not at all,” Ren stepped down past the copilot’s station, taking a closer look at Jaune’s efforts. His prior assessment was spot on. Jaune was definitely thinking a bit too hard about what to say, and how to go about it. He wouldn’t fault his captain for preparedness, but this was going towards the edge of frustration-induced stress. Or panic, depending on how that coin landed.

Jaune lifted a hand, a finger jutting out for each point he listed. “Brevity. Nonchalance. Businesslike. Clarity.”

Ren arched a brow at him. “Are these your guiding points?”

“Yep,” he flicked the screen irritably. “Haven’t really been hitting any of those nails though.”

“Hm.” Ren traced one line with his little finger. “’Unusual conditions. Worried about crew. Ask about intel.” He folded his hands behind his back. “How about: The state of the vessel is raising alarms with our team. We have no confirmation on the whereabouts or fate of the crew. In conjunction with the ship’s integrity, I have to agree with their concerns: This situation is abnormal. If any further details exist, I need to be made aware before we go on.”

Jaune blinked. He kept still for a beat, then surged into motion, fervently deleting enough notes to make room, then, with a sheepish chuckle, asked Ren to repeat himself.

That done at last, Jaune pulled up the long range comm and selected the logged signal parameters. Tight-beam, encoded transmission, and ID codes so the buoys would know where to bounce their wave. He took a deep breath, glancing at Ren.

“Remember, try to speak evenly. You’re a captain concerned for your crew.” He smiled. “Don’t worry about acting, you won’t need to.” Patting his captain’s shoulder, he stepped out of range of the camera before Jaune waved the office.

There wasn’t an immediate answer. Distance, combined with each comm buoy needing to confirm the signal before redirecting it – alongside every other signal likely straining through their systems – meant that establishing a live feed always took a little bit. Especially when they were this far out. Eventually, after maybe seven minutes of weighty silence, one of the screens flashed with ‘accept connection’ and a few options.

Jaune gave Ren a thumbs-up, sat up straighter, then keyed over to click ‘yes’. The image changed over to a woman who looked to be somewhere in her thirties. She had caramel skin, and her wavy auburn hair was done up in a loose bun. Hard brown eyes regarded him with an open, almost suspicious curiosity. The video quality kept bouncing between stuttering and splitting as the ship’s receiver struggled to keep a lock on the spotty signal. “Captain Arc,” she _acknowledged_ , not so much greeted. The question of ‘why’ was entirely unspoken, and from her expression alone it was clear she expected him to get to the point immediately.

He cleared his throat, quite abruptly feeling like he wanted to be anywhere else, doing specifically _not this_. “Ms. Palisander, good to see you. I’d apologize for the urgency, if it.. weren’t.. actually.. uhm, urgent.”

 _I didn’t script this_ _part_ , a voice screamed in his mind, _Businesslike! Uhm…_

She arched a lone brow.

Ren frowned. Their liaison was judging his captain with the wordless intensity of a solar flare.

“Right. To the point.” Jaune nodded. His brain froze for a second. “The point. Ah!” He skimmed the notes, looking askance for but the blink of an eye. “The state of the vessel is raising some concerns with our team. We-”

“That is your purview,” she cut in to remind.

“Yes, under ordinary conditions it is, but this isn’t – I, uh, mean these _aren’t_.” He was quick to make their argument, before she deemed this unnecessary and cut the feed. Then again, she could just as easily decide his assertion to be equally pointless and end the call outright anyway.

She regarded him, unreadable, shortly. “How so?”

Jaune took the chance and leapt through the still open window. “We have no idea what happened to the crew – no remains, indicators of evac, nothing!” He emphasized those points, hoping to keep her interest. “That, together with the state of the ship, is alarming. There’s no signs of serious external damage or systems failure, but the crew is just _gone_. There’s no reason we can tell for them to have abandoned ship, and we’re not even sure if _that’s_ what happened.”

Ren nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. Jaune was going off script, but he was letting his own fire be the fuel now. That was a good sign. He only hoped his captain would keep it up.

Palisander rubbed a hand over her mouth, looking aside. “Nothing at all? Scoring, breaches, anything?”

Jaune shook his head, exasperation darkening his features. “The ship is running on what looks like reserve power. From what we can tell, it went into an emergency shutdown to keep from draining the stores dry. Like I said, no signs of the crew anywhere. No bodies. The ship’s empty. We’re still combing through, but with its size? There would have _had_ to be at least several hundred bodies aboard.”

Palisander exhaled sharply as she sat back, the motion causing her image to momentarily split apart into four different colored versions of her, before jarringly snapping back together. Trippy, but nothing out of the ordinary for long distance live comm feeds. “That’s disconcerting, Arc, I’ll admit.” She flashed her eyes at him, hardening again, but this time there was at least a mote of understanding somewhere in there. “I can’t exactly change any of that, can I? Are you requesting to abandon the job?”

Jaune shook his head. “No, at least.. not yet. I was wondering if there was _anything_ on the ship. Records, details from the discovery, just.. _something_ that might give me a clue if I’m sending my people into something serious, or if we’re just ending up with a real winner of a story for the pub.”

Ren bobbed his head a bit to one side. Not a _bad_ way to go about it. A little casual. That could help.

Palisander held up a finger, and turned away. They could hear her typing, and Jaune used the reprieve to send Ren a questioning glance. The other man returned his thumbs-up from earlier, garnering a look of relief from the blonde.

“Arc, I’ll be honest. At first I was thinking you were up to high on empty, but…” She trailed off, gaze snapping firmly back to him. “I get where you’re coming from, that’s the least I can say.” She didn’t look or sound contrite. Rather, her tone was heavy with something that rang like bitter resignation. “We don’t have anything. Some clipper breached to dry off, batted their scanners at it, then jetted. Passed on the information for a fee.” She held her hands out, palms up. “We’re blinder than you over here. All I can say is: Be careful.”

Jaune didn’t really know what to expect when he’d made the call. He had long ago learned to stop getting his hopes up, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t _hold out_ just a little, _just_ in case. Now here he was, hand outstretched for support, only to grasp at empty air.

“Right,” he mustered up enough inner wherewithal not to completely deflate in front of their liaison. “Thanks for your time, Ms. Palisander.”

“Good luck out there, Captain.” She nodded brusquely, then killed the feed.

He laid a hand over his face, “Well, that didn’t do a damn thing.” As captain his responsibility to protect his crew most often surfaced in piloting, and overseeing their jobs on alert for whatever ugliness might rear its head, or heads as the case may be. He couldn’t exactly run out to join the away team without cause, which meant aiding from a logistical standpoint. Right now he wasn’t even able to supply his crew with basic intel. He was sat on his ass, while they crept through the dark.

“Jaune,” Ren’s voice cut through the disheartening jeremiad.

“Hm?” He raised his head, turning a solitary eye to his friend.

“You’ve done all you can here,” Ren began, and it almost made him look away, “But that’s only one option exhausted. This wasn’t a failure, especially not on your part.”

“Ren, we didn’t find out _anything_ ,” Jaune reminded, confusion etched across his face. “We’re still without bearings, maybe m-”

“No, not ‘more’,” Ren headed him off, anticipating the turn. He paced ahead of the station a little, looking out at the long bow of the derelict. “We know it really is a mystery, assuming they weren’t lying.” His eyes traced the edges of the hull, the sharp point of the bow. “Someone tossed them a bone, and they told us to follow it in their stead.” He shrugged. “A demeaning way to put it, but that’s where we are.”

“So.. what’s your point?” His captain asked, a belated dubiousness hollowing his voice.

“We carry on. Do our job.” Ren faced his friend. “Trust our crew, and help in any way we can. Letting one dead end stop us would be like stranding them.”

Jaune looked at the console, the words ‘call terminated’ still glaring at him on the monitor. They tried a path. It lead them right back to where they were. So, was he going to stand there, useless and impotent, or keep looking for a way out?

“Okay,” he rubbed a hand over his face, gave his cheek a slap. “You’re right.” That flicker of resolve returned to life in his belly, and he adjusted his posture to something a touch more dignified. “If I’m stuck sitting here I can’t just be breathing air.” He looked over the instruments, trying to come up with potential plans. Reaching for the slightest threads that might lead him anywhere else. “Any ideas?” He asked, glancing up.

Ren shrugged. “No. Sorry.”

Jaune rolled his eyes, but managed a morose smirk. “Yeah, figures…”

|***|

There were two good reasons for bringing Nora along, as it happened.

To reach both the power plant _and_ the bridge meant going through Security, and it looked like whoever designed the ship took this compartment _seriously_. The doors were heavy, drop-down slabs of dense alloy. Everything was fitted flush together; nowhere to get purchase, couldn’t trigger a release, it a was nice and tidy job.

The away team stood guard as the ginger engineer went to work with her torch – it had been a fight in itself to convince her _not_ to use the Quartite this time, but at least they’d the forewarning to anticipate her eagerness. Slow going, even with the industrial beast cranked up to its max output. The doors were reinforced, but like everything else they were not invincible. Force and patience would win out, and they had plenty of both.

“Magnetic lever might have worked,” Ruby thought aloud, risking a glance toward the door. All she needed was the briefest glare from the torch to immediately redirect her eyes. “Y’know, if it was heavy enough. Latch it near the bottom, crank the door up. Probably best to use a motor though, ‘cause the doors might have something in place to _keep_ ‘em sealed in case someone tried that. Couldn’t really tell without cracking open the whole thing for a better look.” She was rambling, her brain and mouth going on autopilot. She felt like talking was the only recourse to going mad from anxiety. She felt so on edge that she was afraid she might fall. Thus, she had come down with a bad case of machine gun mouth.

Nora had her music, but the others probably tuned out, because even though they let Ruby keep talking none of them seemed to be paying close attention – which Ruby sussed out via lack of someone telling her to shut up. Maybe they were nervous, too, or realized this was her way of distracting herself. They also might have assumed she was excited. She did express interest in getting a look at the security team’s arsenal after all. Maybe they thought it was like a kid bouncing up and down in anticipation of getting a treat.

Yang had her back to the bulkhead, gaze trained down the passageway they had come from. Blake was nearby, monitoring the motion sensors – not that they expected any alerts, but it was better than standing listless. Pyrrha looked to be assessing her teammates, green gaze flitting between the faunus and the two sisters. The oppressive atmosphere of the derelict had all but quashed any will to make real conversation. Only Nora appeared able to resist, whatever it was.

They were eventually roused to action by an ecstatic ‘whoop’ from the ginger, who gave the rectangular cutout a firm kick, dislodging it and providing a convenient opening for them to pass through. She followed as it floated, moving it away from the hole so it wouldn’t obstruct anything.

Yang popped her neck as she pushed off the wall, motioning for the others to follow. “All right, let’s see what we-”

“Whoa, uh, guys?” Nora cut through over the comm, and everyone, for a split second, froze. The usually unflappable twidget had sounded.. worried.

Time’s flow rushed back in like a river, sweeping them to action.

Yang made another gesture, already moving. Blake fell in behind, Ruby looking to make sure Pyrrha was close before following the pair through the opening. She came out a few feet behind her sister, Blake a little to their right. They were looking straight ahead, weapons up and panning slowly.

Ruby went left, shining her headlamp into the dark. Her immediate impression was that this compartment was definitely on the larger side. Multi-level, too, it seemed. Once, this would have served as the nerve center of the ship’s immune system, to wax metaphorical about it. Rows of terminals, projector hubs, and other monitoring systems were laid out in a neat and orderly fashion. Well, some of them were. It felt strange to look at. Like a before-and-after of the same image. The side they came out on was partially intact, but most of the compartment was a vastly different story.

Channels and pits of melted metal streaked and pocked the deck and bulkheads; valleys and craters on a silvery alien topography. Terminals were smashed, reduced to slag, overturned, and some had come free to float suspended above the carnage. Defensive barricades were deployed, rising out of the deck to provide cover.

Ruby licked her lips, her whole body like a tightly coiled spring as she oh so slowly scanned the compartment down her rifle’s sights. “Not good,” she uttered, voice a whisper.

“Yeah, guys, what the _hell_?!” Nora blurted, her eyes were wide and flashing around nervously. She had pulled out her pulse hammer, fingers tight around the shaft and ready to make use of the deadly implement at the first sign of trouble. She edged closer to her crew, body angled protectively.

Yang waved the ship. “Jaune, you there?” She motioned to the team, striding cautiously forward into the midst of the mangled spectacle.

“Yeah, what’s up?” The response came, after what felt like a short eternity of radio silence.

“We’ve got signs of a fight,” Yang informed. “Damage to the compartment. Laser, maybe plasma fire, too.” Her light passed over some of the ugly trenches carved into the metal, the edges roiling out like waves frozen in someone’s ocean diorama. “Are. You. _Sure_ there’s no sign of-”

“Yang, the scans aren’t picking up anything unusual, I promise you,” Jaune came back hurriedly. He had sounded distracted at first, now he was concerned. “Do you think.. maybe it was pirates, or something? A mutiny? Can you check the-”

“There aren’t any bodies,” Blake said, heading him off. She swept her gaze across the compartment, already combing nearby the main group. “Can’t ID anyone when there’s signs of a firefight, but no combatants.”

“Are you _serious_?!” Jaune hissed, almost furious in his incredulity.

“There are weapons present,” Pyrrha said. “Some look to be damaged. No bodies though. Not yet at least.” There were indeed guns, most of them situated near the defenses.

For a little bit nobody said anything, and the ensuing lull was excruciating. Ruby glanced at Yang, then the wreckage, then the stairs. She wanted to ask what their plan was, what move they should take, but the words died before ever come close to her mouth. Her vision passed over the destruction, each little detail jotting tiny notes in her subconscious. Details she couldn’t be asked to focus on, not when her mind was swimming in a sea of terrible possibilities.

The one, the most glaring point of all: Thermal weaponry.

While not a definite indicator, it was a string tied very firmly to one particularly awful point.

Ruby shook herself, focusing her mind outward instead of in, and waited. All the while her heart pounded desperately in her chest. It was so difficult, without something actively anchoring her attention her thoughts were continuously dragged down to far worse recesses. As torturous the stillness, she could only imagine the turmoil Jaune and Yang had to be feeling. She didn’t envy her sister or their captain; she didn’t envy the weight of making a decision that involved lives.

“Right,” Yang exhaled, breathed deep, then continued. “Everyone, group up like before. We’re gonna check the next level. If it’s clear, we’ll stick with the plan and find the Bomb. Got it?” She spoke smoothly; steadily. Her voice was firm, and thus was the impression of her conviction.

An impression, one that did not preclude suspicion.

Pyrrha lowered her rifle a fraction, looking over. “Are.. are you _okay_ , Yang?” She seemed to rethink the question, quickly adding, “I’m sorry! It’s.. you sounded.. troubled.” Her mind fumbled for words, and the ones that made it across her tongue tripped on the way out.

“ _I’m_ -” The blonde stopped, the sound of her breathing was shaky. She composed herself. “No bodies, no hostiles, so it’s.. clear. Let’s do the sweep. Fast. Get this job done.” She didn’t look at the other woman. Her eyes stayed fixed on the distance; or, more likely, on the damage throughout the compartment.

“Yang…” Ruby croaked, her throat suddenly feeling very dry.

Yang’s expression softened in a flash, and she whirled quickly to face her sister. There was a fragment of time, just as she turned, where the blonde wore an expression of what could only be described as _terror_. It melted away in a flash. She knocked a hand against Ruby’s shoulder, a devil-may-care gesture as lacking in substance as her grin. “Like I said, no baddies, right? Whatever happened.. it must have been a while back, or.. or something. Long as we don’t see anything above, we should be good.” She nodded. To Ruby, to the others, probably even to herself. No one bought it.

Yang was trying to be reassuring, but Ruby didn’t just hear the uncertainty, she could _see_ it. The way her sister was forcing on a mask of self-possession, the fake smile woven with the strained confidence in her voice. The act. That damnable act, while she stepped up first to try and take the brunt.

“ _If_ you think that’s the best idea,” Ruby spoke slowly and with meaning that ran deeper than the words themselves. Yang recognized the message. Her whole body tensed for a second; a flicker of fear darting from behind resolute lilac.

“I…” Yang’s hand fell away, and she looked again at the signs of battle painting the compartment in a juxtaposition of order and destruction.

Ruby sighed. “Let’s do it then. Sweep above, head to the Bomb if nothing’s there.” She could hardly believe the words were her own, but she hated seeing Yang put up that facade. That pretense of ‘everything is going to be okay’ to lift everyone else up while the weight of it all crushed her. Watching it, listening to it, hurt. It burrowed in somewhere deep, twisting and drilling and _burning_. Ruby wondered if maybe, just.. _maybe_ by seconding the plan she could share even a fraction of that pressure. “None of us want to be here, so let’s get it over with. Right?” Her declaration rung with a harsh, yet almost hollow determination.

Yang tilted her head, looking into sterling silver for only a few seconds before her eyes darted aside again. She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat proved more stubborn than she liked. “Yeah. Couldn’t agree more right now.” She spoke softly, hiding the fact she felt as though she were choking.

Nora blinked, looking from one sister to the other. “Uh.. what now?”

“Never mind,” Yang shouldered her weapon. “C’mon, let’s move.”

The upper level was the same. Deployed barriers, ruined equipment, and thermal damage splayed wildly about – and empty. Nothing attacked them, nothing showed on radar, and no corpses to be seen. Clear. Just like before. So, they headed below to repeat their prior routine. The reactor was through another heavy doorway, which meant waiting again while Nora fashioned them an entrance. Only now they were stood in the remains of what must have been a terrifying ordeal for.. whoever had crewed this boat. There was no literal atmosphere, yet the air was thick with something hungry and dreadful. It had its claws in deep, bleeding their spirits, drop by drop, with every sluggish second.

They waited, bogged by disquiet.

When Nora at last shoved the block of metal free she didn’t bother rushing ahead. Not this time. Rather, she just gave Yang a thumbs-up and a fragile smile. The blonde took point, and they followed quietly. Alert. The passageway they found themselves in led down at a gentle angle, terminating at what was thankfully a normal door.

Ruby noted that there were signs of blast shielding tucked into the bulkheads, but those hadn’t been activated. Not like they would have done much good in the event the Bomb went off anyway. That sort of force would probably vaporize the armor, and reduce a good chunk of the aft to a molten desolation.

Blake pulled the release, and Yang slid the door ajar enough to get her light through.

“Uh.. well, seems okay so f-”

“Stop!”

“Yang, wait!”

Blake and Ruby looked at each other, surprise flitting across their features. Yang slowly craned her head, remaining otherwise still. “Guys? Hello?” She hissed, understandably urgent.

Blake snapped her focus to the blonde. “Something’s tethered to the door.” She aimed her light down at the gap, revealing a thin length of cord strung horizontal on the other side. “It.. looks like it might be a tripwire. First guess.” She shrugged.

Nora made a loud and shockingly throaty noise, which had everyone looking her direction, then shouldered her way to the front. “All right, move aside! Let’s see what’s gumming the works.” They all stepped back, Yang careful not to disturb the door as she gave the ginger some room.

Nora pulled out her scanner, waving it to and fro for a moment. “Ew,” was the first remark to leave her mouth.

Yang shook her head, a bit stunned by the reaction. “Wanna.. uhm, wait, _what_?”

“I think we’ve got an IED~,” the twidget hummed.

“Someone rigged a _bomb_ to the reactor door?” Pyrrha exclaimed. She started muttering something, all Ruby caught was a soft ‘what next’ along with lots of words in the redhead’s native tongue. Some language from Mistral, and nothing the younger girl recognized. She supposed the redhead had earned a good tangent.

“My guess, yep.” Nora traded the scanner for bolt cutters, easing them through the gap until the blades were around the wire. “Okay, fingers crossed there’s not a secondary trigger.”

Blake rolled her eyes. “Yeah, no sh-”

She stopped as Nora sliced the cord, and nobody moved for a second.

The ginger peered up and down, bringing her scanner back for a more thorough inspection of the area just beyond the doorway. “Don’t think there’s anything else.” She eased the door open just a bit, enough to pop her head through.

“Nora!” Yang instinctively reached out, but Blake stepped in front of her.

“Let her-” The faunus started, only to get cut off again.

“Looks good and shiny, folks!” Nora rolled the door aside and scuttled around the frame. “That is one hackit looking dreck of a job.”

The team followed her cautiously. Yang and Blake scanned their surroundings, while Ruby peered over to see what their twidget was working on. Pyrrha hung close, just in case things turned sour.

“Looks like they strapped some canisters together,” Ruby mumbled, squinting at the roughshod contraption.

Nora nodded, pointing as she explained. “Sniffer says these two have the chemicals. Third one’s empty, and they’re tied together all nice and pretty with these little tubes here.” She lowered herself to the deck, looking at the device from below. “Yeah.. they’re probably pressurized. Wire’s tied to a valve. Pull it, they go have a party in tube three, get real excited, then…” She clapped her hands, quite a lackluster finish with the vacuum and all. “Pop! We’re paint on the bulkhead.”

Blake sighed, elbowing Yang pointedly.

“Can you disarm it?” Pyrrha asked, eyeing the explosive with an appropriate amount of wariness.

Nora snorted. “Puh- _leez_. I could even make a better one if I had to. This is messy.” She produced a pair of tools and went to work. It was only a minute later, maybe less, when she plucked the IED from the wall. “Done! Sealed the tanks, blocked the valve for good measure. It’s harmless.” She shot Yang a glare. “Just don’t shoot it.”

The blonde returned the look. “What? Don’t look at _me_ , I’m not about to-”

Blake cleared her throat, earning everyone’s attention. “Can we scope the compartment, then try and power up the reactor?”

Nora hopped to her feet, leaving the IED on the ground. “Oh, right, sorry! Yeah, let’s turn to!”

Yang nodded, but paused. She looked at Ruby, then to Blake. “Thanks, guys. I.. I should’ve spotted that, but instead I nearly screwed-”

“Yang,” Blake’s tone was soft, yet surprisingly impactful. It drew the blonde’s eye immediately – well, it made everyone look at her in fact, but she didn’t seem to mind. “We’re all fraying here. This is why we’re doing this as a team, right? Watch each others backs, catch someone when they fall, that whole thing?”

Yang blinked, a smile slowly lighting her face. “Yeah.. but, still, thanks. Both of you.” She turned again to her sister. “I’ll be more careful though.”

Ruby sighed, feeling a little relieved for once since they reentered this boat. “Good. I’m just glad _someone_ caught that.”

“Agreed,” Pyrrha clapped Ruby on the back. “Good eye, by the way.”

Ruby’s smile faltered a bit, prior worries creeping up her spine to infiltrate weak points in her mind. “Oh, uh.. r-right. Thanks.”

Nora groaned loudly. “Can you all _come on_. Team bonding, I get it, you’re all adorable, but this ship’s giving me the heebie-jeebies, and I wanna get back to unpacking the pretty stuff again.” She pointed to the hulking reactor looming before them in the darkness. “Bomb. _Step on it_!” For her size, she sure could bark an order like a drill sergeant. Everyone hurried into position, and set about sweeping the power plant.

It was near the far end of the compartment, however, where they received a second shock.

Ruby’s light fell on something.. out of place. She snapped her sights back, aiming down a tight space between two large coolant pipes. Her face fell, and a chill swept through her veins. “Guys, I.. I think I’ve got eyes on a body...”


	6. Where the Ocean Meets the Shore

“Ruby!” Yang yelled. She was running, if the way her voice trembled was any indication, “Keep your distance, wait for us to-”

“Yang, I’m pretty sure whoever it is.. or.. was.. they’re dead,” Ruby breathed out. She felt like traces of her soul were escaping with the air. “I’m not moving closer yet, don’t worry,” she offered anyway. “They aren’t moving either.” The body, whoever it had once been, was tucked in. A sleek white and silver suit with a fully plated helmet obscuring the face. They were.. sitting there, between the pipes, back to the bulkhead. A gun across their lap, hands laid over the weapon and crossed neatly. Casually. The oddly funereal pose made her stomach churn into twisted tangles.

Blake reached her first, giving the girl an inscrutably masked once over before moving closer to the corpse. The others arrived shortly after, as a group.

“Blake, watch out,” Yang had her shotgun shouldered, barrel down, ready to raise it if the suited figure suddenly became active.

“She may be right, Yang,” Blake held her pistol out, trained on the body just in case, as she inched ahead. The space between the pipes was only wide enough for a single person, meaning there wasn’t room to safely fire around the faunus unless she dropped to the deck.

Ruby worried at her lip, looking around at the others. Yang was a bundle of tightly wound energy, Nora seemed to be focusing her attention anywhere else, and Pyrrha looked.. sad? Ruby blinked, taking a second glance at the redhead. Melancholia and enervation swam in emerald pools, hand in hand, pirouetting in a macabre dance. Pyrrha looked tired. Even her posture wasn’t as straight.

Blake knelt down slowly by the body, and with a deft hand deprived the corpse of its firearm. She sent the gun floating slowly back to the team, and remarked, “Had to pry the fingers loose. They’re either unconscious, dead, or know how to play a convincing cadaver.”

“Wish the visor was clear, so we’d have more than a guess,” Yang grumbled.

“Speak for yourself,” Nora gagged.

Ruby stowed her rifle, leaning down to scoop up the gun previously belonging to the suited body. “Hm,” she stepped aside, wanting a little more room to inspect the weapon. Plus, if she were going to be completely honest, she didn’t want to stare at that figure any longer, tucked in or not. This was a good excuse – and distraction. The gun had an elegant design. Comfortable ergonomics, clear sights, angled foregrip just ahead of the trigger guard. It was relatively compact, apart from the almost disproportionately long butt. It certainly felt sturdy in the hand. Aiming at a distant stretch of the deck, she powered it on.

“Ah!” She flinched as the ‘barrel’ snapped open and a trio of rails slid forward. “O-Okay, nope!” She quickly hit the power again, sighing in relief as the weapon folded into its inert state. “Plasma discharger,” she announced. The rails were a magnetic ‘cage’, every plasma weapon had one – some called it ‘scaffolding’ – to keep the plasma from blooming too much en route to its target. A little extra range, the stronger the field the more integrity you could eke out.

Nora’s eyes lit up like lightning as she bolted over. “ _Ooh_ , really?!” She examined the destructive implement closely, while Ruby made a mental note to _not_ let the ginger get her hands on it.

Pyrrha exchanged a short look with Yang, then stepped over to the other two girls. “Ruby, perhaps you should.. stow that for now. We may be able to add it to the armory, if we’ve any matching components. Otherwise you could strip it for parts,” she shrugged.

“Yup, sounds good,” the younger girl agreed emphatically, switching out the discharger for her rifle, snapping the former to a mag-lock on her back. “This one looks way, uh…” She rolled several words around in her head, looking for one that wouldn’t come across the wrong way.

“Better than ours?” Nora nodded. “You bet. I’m not _really_ a gun nut, _but_ that’s one pretty lady there.” She took a step back, whistling softly. “Pretty _dangerous_ , too. Love to see what she can put out.” A frighteningly excited grin curled her lips.

“Not now,” Pyrrha turned the ginger around. “Go check the reactor, I have a feeling we’re clear.” She gave a light push toward the Bomb.

Nora rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t gonna- fine, _fine_! I never get to have any fun!” She stormed off in a huff, grumbling under her breath the whole time.

Pyrrha nudged Ruby. “Let’s give her some cover while she works, hm?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Right.” She gave the redhead a nod.

Yang, meanwhile, watched as Blake continued her observation of the body. “Any clues what killed ‘em?”

Blake shook her head. “Don’t see punctures. Haven’t had a chance to go over the seals. It’s a bit cramped back here. I’m bringing them out for a better look.” The faunus shifted about, lifting the body. “Make sure it doesn’t come to life and stab me, would you?”

Yang’s light glinted off the hilt of a sheathed blade dangling from the body’s waist. “A hanger? Huh. Wonder if this was an officer.” Another spacer term, this one derived from some ancient nautical tradition – the sword was a ‘hanger’ because it had to be _hung_ from the belt due to length.

“Could be, the suit doesn’t have an insignia on it. Nothing new,” Blake remarked. Stepping out from between the pipes she set the body down again, and examined it more thoroughly. “Hm.. okay, seals are intact. Nothing’s really wrong with the suit. I don’t.. wait.” She turned her attention to the body’s joints, maneuvering them slowly. “Oh. Damn.”

Yang stepped closer, weapon angled closer to the body, but still aimed firmly at the deck. “What’s up?”

“This is one of those Atlesian periderm suits.” Periderm was, in short, a kind of reactive mesh. Nearly every modern suit had a layer of it, but in some cases – usually either wealthy or martial – whole suits, or foundation layers, were designed from it as the principal component. Blake glanced up at the blonde. “Integrated armor, probably joint actuators.. they can lock up, harden to protect the wearer in an emergency. The trade off is it restricts movement.”

“So.. they might be alive?” Yang looked around for a moment, scanning the otherwise pristine bulkhead and reactor. “Y’know, if the ship wasn’t floating here long enough they died of thirst or whatever.”

Blake shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Suit might be equipped for chemical stasis, or.. they might just be dangerously weak. I can’t really tell like this,” she motioned to the plated helmet. “Maybe.. we should get the body back to the ship? Just in case?” A grimace twisted her face, and she righted herself.

“That’s the neighborly thing to do,” Yang sighed, staring thoughtfully at the lone body. The _one_ _person_ left on a ship that should have had hundreds, even if all corpses. This person was sat in a tight corner, armed, while the only entrance was rigged with an IED. “I suppose this is also who set the door to blow. And they were just.. hid back here between the pipes, too,” she muttered. “So.. what were they hiding from?”

“That’s what I really don’t like about this,” Blake tersely concurred. “Though, that position’s kind of awful.”

Yang cocked a brow. “You’re doing this now?”

The faunus nodded, unimpeded. “Good choke point, sure. Any hostiles have to put themselves practically in your sights for a clear shot, but you’re trapped there. You couldn’t make a run for it without becoming an easy target.” She gestured at the narrow space between the pipes.

“I dunno,” Yang pointed at the rearmost surface. “Shimmy up there, facing forward. If you’re a good shot you even get vantage on whatever’s after you.” She turned to flash the faunus a smile, only to find herself faced with a very unimpressed glare instead. “What?” Her confidence flickered into uncertainty.

“You’re an idiot, but at least you’re creative.” Blake tried her best not to smile, but a brief flash of amusement made it through the cracks of her veneer.

“Aw, thanks,” Yang bumped shoulders with the woman, who gave her a light shove in return.

“Yeah, come on. Let’s see how Nora’s do-” They felt a hum under their feet, followed by a series of red lights flashing on above. “Please tell me that’s good,” she sighed, staring upward.

“I think it’s just the Bomb warming up,” she pointed to the reactor, gaze following to where her sister and Pyrrha were stood. She tweaked her comm. “Everything shiny, Nora?”

“Our baby’s purring, commander!” The twidget cheered, loud and clear and currently crawled halfway past a maintenance panel.

“Big baby,” Blake remarked softly, looking over the enormous reactor.

“Damn _straight_!” Nora vigorously agreed.

Pyrrha smirked. “It appears you’re getting on her wavelength.”

Blake made a face. “Careful, Nikos.”

A loud, automated voice spoke over the ship’s PA system, in.. not a language Ruby spoke. “Is that Paldian?”

“Palladian,” Blake corrected. “Yes. It was announcing that the reactor is online again.”

Nora slid out from the service hatch and rushed to one of the terminals, looking over each slowly as her HUD translated the foreign script for her. Once she had a grasp of what was what, she went to work tweaking the system.

“Juice is flowing, and we.. are.. _golden_!” She declared.

Light flooded the compartment, dispelling the gloom in bright white illumination. You could almost feel the beast rumbling the space around you with its ambient strength. Ruby winced, a biting twinge shooting behind her eyes. She averted her gaze to the deck, waiting for her vision to adjust. The pain faded, until only a dull ache remained, like pressure against her skull. Goosebumps rippled across her flesh, but a quick glance at her scroll offered some comfort.

The sensation of someone rocking her shoulder drew her attention. Yang was there, brow knit in concern. “You okay?” She asked, speaking solely to her.

Ruby nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She glanced at her scroll again, angling it so Yang could see. “We’re clear,” she shrugged.

“Yeah.” Yang laid her hand atop her sister’s helmet for a second, even if indirect the contact conferred solace aplenty.

“Gravity’s gonna be on in.. uh, now,” Nora gave a thumbs up, right as the sensation of _weight_ started to take hold again.

Blake swooped down to stop the body from dropping sideways onto the deck.

“Atmosphere?” Yang inquired.

Nora shook her head. “Can’t remote that. Least.. not as I can tell.”

“Oh well, win some lose some,” Yang grinned, this time legitimately. She keyed her comm to the ship. “Yo, Jaune? You getting anything out there?”

“Yeah, _huge_ energy surge,” was his answer.

“Well, this is a really big reactor,” Yang chuckled. “Probably half the size of our damn ship.”

“Yeah, uhm.. no, Yang?” Jaune responded, and they all stilled. “I got that, but there’s another signature. Saw it a few seconds after we detected the Bomb. It’s coming from starboard side. Not quite as big, but it’s _definitely_ there. Enough that the scanners are reading it. You might wanna get over there, see what it is? Make sure.. you know.. it won’t kill us.”

Yang took a deep, slow breath. “One thing after the other. Right, cool, we’ll mark it. How _far_ starboard, do you think?”

“I’m guessing it’s in one of the compartments closest to the hull,” he said. “Further aft.”

Blake frowned. “Somewhere in ‘Observation’?” She looked to Yang.

“Guess so,” the blonde returned uncertainly. “By the way,” her eyes passed over her teammates as she spoke, “We found a body. Suited up, and.. Blake thinks there’s a chance the occupant’s alive.”

The reaction from the present crew was an almost universal look of wide-eyed surprise.

Jaune sputtered. “You found someone?! Seriously? You’re not pulling my leg, right?”

“Nope. Like I said, dunno if they’re kicking or straight kicked it. At the very least we get them to medical and make sure,” she continued. “If we’ve got a survivor, they might _need_ help.”

Jaune was silent for a second, almost certainly processing the development, and the possible ramifications. “Right,” he sighed, “I won’t hold out hope, but.. that’s the right thing to do. The least we can do.”

“Copy, we’ll have ‘em back in a shake,” Yang closed the feed. “Okay, let’s get our-”

“Ah, wait a second!” Blake raised a hand.

“Huh? What’s up?” Yang stopped mid-turn.

“That power surge could be important, we shouldn’t all head back now,” the faunus argued. “Two of us can transport the body, so no one’s alone, the other three head starboard. See what’s lighting up the scanners.”

Yang pursed her lips. “I think we’d be safer together, but.. who’d go where?”

“I’ll go, and Ruby can back me up,” Blake answered quickly, pausing to search out the younger girl’s response.

“Sure, if we’re headed back to the _Juniper_ I can unload this thing, too,” Ruby thumbed over her shoulder at the discharger.

Blake nodded. “Pyrrha should stick with you in case someone gets hurt, and Nora in the event anything comes up that’s tech-related.” Blake turned to the engineer. “Unless the reactor needs more work?”

Nora gave a shake of her head. “Nah, she’s good. Everything’s warm and steady. Coolant’s pumping, fuel’s burning, we’re good here.”

“Right,” Blake pulled the data miner from a case on her hip. “I can plant this on the way back too, set it to start digging around for anything. Maybe we can actually find out what they were d-”

“Y’know, I shoulda guessed it was going that way,” Yang headed her off, laughing morosely.

Blake wilted a little, but only for a second. She straightened quickly, meeting the blonde’s gaze with a firm resolve of her own. “Yang, that is _not_ the only reason. You and Pyrrha are a better pair if you run into opposition, you’ve got close and medium range covered.” She gestured to their weapons for emphasis.

Pyrrha stepped in before Yang could return fire. “That.. does strike me as a sound plan, Yang.”

The blonde looked taken aback. “Wha- Pyrrha, splitting up isn’t-”

“Whatever’s happening with that energy surge might need immediate attention,” Pyrrha opined, keeping her voice measured. “Blake and Ruby can make quick time through the route we cleared, while the rest of us ascertain whether or not we’re in danger.”

“You’re buying this?” Yang arched a brow.

Pyrrha tilted her head. “What.. do you mean?”

She pointed to the data miner. “I’m talking about _that_. Of course she wants to hurry up and get that thing running _right now_.”

Blake sneered. “Oh, I get it. I’m being irrational – or selfish? Something like that, right?”

“No, that’s- I’m.. Blake, look, this isn’t like clearing a cutter or something, where we’re maybe a few minutes away at most,” Yang argued. “If something _did_ happen we’d have to cross this whole damned boat to reach you!”

“I’ve placed motion sensors all over this section of the ship, Yang,” Blake reminded, her voice climbing. “We’ll know if there’s anything else moving around. And if we run into something along the way, I’m not going to just sit around and _let_ us get trapped!”

Yang took a step forward, about to launch another volley, when a new challenger entered the arena.

Nora stomped between them, arms splayed to either side, and yelled, “That is _it_!”

Yang froze, and Blake took a step back in shock. Ruby and Pyrrha stared in unblinking surprise, the tension from the fight melted in an instant by the diminutive ginger’s outburst.

Nora pointed a stern finger at the blonde. “You need to cool off, hothead!” She whipped her head around, angling another finger at the faunus. “ _You_ ,” her demeanor softened, “Lemme talk real quick.” Whirling on Yang, Nora marched the two paces between them and stood up on her toes, bright blue boring into dazed lilac. “Blakey’s trying to help, don’t be so hard on her just ‘cause you’re scared.”

“I’m not-”

“Nuh-uh! No, shush!” She pressed a finger against Yang’s visor.

Ruby, after adjusting her comm, muttered to Pyrrha, “Uh.. so… What’s happening?”

Pyrrha shrugged. “Hm. Professional disagreement?” Was her offered explanation.

Ruby winced. “Sounds pretty _un_ professional to me.”

“Same difference, with this job.”

“Gotcha.”

“Blakey’s a big girl, she can take care of herself,” Nora rolled back onto her feet, crossing her arms. “And I haven’t seen Ruby in a scrap yet, but she got signed on. _Which_ means she knows how to handle herself. Right?”

Yang’s shoulders sagged. “Right. Fine.” Saying she sounded reluctant would have been an egregious understatement. The way she glanced at her sister for a moment served only to hammer that deeper. “As long as no one is alone-”

Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t start-”

“Ah!” Nora whirled like a top, mashing a finger to Blake’s visor this time. “Shhh,” she made a calming motion with her other hand. “ _Trying_ to be helpful here, don’t step on my shoes!” When Blake made no signs of continuing with her complaint, Nora stepped back. “Deal?” She extended a hand to each woman, giving them both a firm stare in turn as they mulled over her offer.

Yang and Blake looked at each other for a _long_ few seconds. In the end, the two women grabbed the ginger’s hands.

Nora’s hands flew to their wrists, fingers clamping down like vices, earning cries of consternation from the pair. “Silence your lamentations!” She yanked them close, so their faces were inches from hers. “Now then, I wanna make this clear: You two _are_ going to talk this out later.” When it looked as if they would balk, she squeezed a little tighter, and their silence continued. “Now ladies, I make sure our ship _works_. From stem to stern, and every little piece between. Got that? Because _y’all_ fall square in the ‘between’.” She smiled sweetly, taking the time to look both women in the eye. “Understand?”

A pair of nods answered her.

“Great!” Nora bounced to Yang’s side. “Then let’s get going, partners!”

Yang looked down, realizing too late that Nora still had her by the wrist. “Uh-”

“We’ve got a mystery to solve!” The ginger hauled her off, causing the blonde to stumble for a few steps before adjusting to the spritely woman’s gait.

Pyrrha held out a hand, but decided against trying to wrangle Nora. She waved briefly at Ruby and Blake. “Be careful, you two,” was all she could spare prior to necessity spurring her into hurrying after the pair.

Ruby nudged the faunus, “They, uh.. gonna be okay? Y’know, with.. _Nora_?”

Blake exhaled slowly through her nose. “I hope so.” She doused the embers of irritation smoldering in her belly as best she could, namely by focusing on something in the present. “So… Who’s carrying the... Our guest,” she reworded at the last second.

Ruby gave an audible groan of what sounded like disgust to the faunus. “I’ve got the bigger gun, so.. maybe I should take point?” She flashed the older woman an awkward smile.

“True, but I probably have more combat experience than you,” Blake rejoined.

“Yeah, but unless turning the power on awoke, like, a terrible curse then we won’t have trouble heading to the ship,” was Ruby’s counter argument, accompanied by a challenging smile.

Blake arched a brow. “I also need to set up the data miner?”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “C’mon, like _neither_ of us wouldn’t be putting.. them,” she gestured uncomfortably at the figure, “Down while you set it up.”

“Same goes for a firefight. Like you said, what are the odds we even run into anything? So where does that put you and your ‘bigger gun’?” Blake smirked.

Ruby’s head lolled back. “God! Okay, I’ll.. carry the body.” She stowed her rifle and picked up the surprisingly lightweight form. They were awful short, whoever this was. “You sure you don’t want me taking point?”

“I think I’ll live,” the faunus pointedly glanced at the person in Ruby’s arms. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” She drew her pistol as a precaution, and the two set off.

Backtracking through Security was sobering. The obvious wounds in the structure raised anxiety as much as it dredged up questions. Not something either wanted to think on, but, whether it was grim pragmatism or fear, the reawakened worries took root regardless.

Blake sent a look at the figure Ruby carried. What had they gone through? What drove them to hide back in the power plant, even going so far as to rig an explosive to the door? While she didn’t write off the possibility of this person abandoning any other crew – not that they saw any, so this was all hypothetical – it wasn’t what really seized her focus. To Blake, it looked more like someone falling back; desperate for any sense of safety that could be scrounged up. Were that the case, it seemed to have been fairly barren. A basic bomb and taking cover in a narrow space.

The discharger on Ruby’s back began to take on a heaviness sensed rather than felt. She tried to tell herself that if this was an Atlesian ship, it only made sense they would outfit their soldiers with thermal weapons. It was Atlas. She didn’t actually know for sure what was considered standard issue for Atlesian soldiers – assuming this ship was even remotely connected to their military – but considering someone could afford to stick old worlds tech in the boat, thermals would have been a breeze to manufacture. That’s why they were so prevalent.

 _Right?_ Her internal query echoed, without an answer.

Her attempts did little aside from sending corners of her mind into a swirl of uncertainty. She was doing her best not to look at whoever she was carrying, and silently hoping they weren’t beyond the point of saving. They were treading featureless corridors for the moment, which meant the only other thing to look at.. was Blake. And so, yet another tug of worry materialized within the already many limbed mass affecting her.

“I’m, uhm.. I’m sorry about that, by the way. What happened before, I mean,” Ruby piped up. She hadn’t even thought about what to say, or if she should, the words just.. rolled across her tongue. “Yang’s.. well, you’ve worked with her. She’s.. protective. Gets worried easy. She’s just trying to help, really, but she has a bad habit of going a little overboard. Sometimes.”

Blake recognized the familiarity in the girl’s voice. The ‘I’ve been there, too,’ sentiment. Ruby continued before the faunus could respond.

“I should’ve said something instead of, uhm.. not.. doing that.” She hoped that wouldn’t sound as incriminating as ‘standing around and doing squat’, because that’s exactly what had happened. “Pyrrha _and_ Nora both said something, and I didn’t. That’s-”

“You think you could have calmed her down?” Blake inquired.

“I mean, I’m her sister,” Ruby shrugged. “I should have _tried_.”

Blake hummed. “That doesn’t make it your responsibility. You’re fine. It was between us.” There was a pause, then, “Don’t get me wrong.. I’m thankful they stepped in, but that’s only a short term fix. Nora’s.. right.” Her eyes flashed askance briefly. “It’s best to leave these matters ‘til later. We _need_ to.”

One side of Ruby wanted to take the easy out, but the other side wouldn’t budge. The urge to capitulate crashed into a solid wall, shattering in seconds. “Yeah, but-”

“Ruby,” Blake slowed, and nudged her. “Don’t worry. Or.. _wait_ , and worry about it later, too. Best to put it off until we’re all safe before getting distracted.”

“Easier said than done,” she bemoaned, staring dejectedly ahead. At least their path was lit now.

“Very true,” the faunus agreed.

The only stop on their return was the Archive. Ruby gingerly set the person down, propping them up, then moved to watch Blake work. She’d already woken the terminal, and was rapidly keying through menus. The data miner was laid at one corner of the screen, a bank of data carts plugged to the top. The faunus’ eyes were moving almost as swiftly as her fingers as she went over whatever was popping up on the screen. All in that foreign Atlesian language, which left Ruby completely in the dark.

“See anything.. uh.. weird yet?” The younger girl inquired, desperate to break the silence somehow. Even if only to distract herself. With the lights on the ship didn’t feel as oppressive, but nothing could completely wipe away the sinking sensation of something being wrong here. The missing crew, the destruction carving through Security, on top of everything else about this strange boat. There was a mountain of things that permeated the need for caution. Turning on the lights was.. well, akin to trying to _hide_ a mountain behind a mole hill.

Blake’s brow was furrowed. “I.. so far there’s nothing.. shocking.” She reached over to the miner, holding down a button while her attention remained glued to the terminal. A few seconds later and she nodded to herself, then resumed sifting about. “I didn’t expect to see a whole outline right in the open, but.. all of this.. looks…” She trailed off, but only because something had grabbed her attention.

“Uh..?” Ruby shot a pointed look at the screen.

“I found their jump logs,” Blake explained. “They hopped sixteen systems to get here, and I don’t recognize any of these coordinates. It doesn’t look like they used any gates to get here. Reinforces the theory they didn’t want to be found.”

Large ships used jump drives, rather than dive cores. It was slower, and less safe if you didn’t know exactly where you were going. If possible, bigger boats would travel via a network of jump gates. These were precise points. No dangerous guesswork involved, and cheaper than using the huge amount of power, and therefore fuel, needed to bridge a jump.

Blake pointed to the list of numbers and dates on the terminal. “Right here.. this first entry is probably their point of departure. Calypso.”

“Is.. that a colony?”

Blake shook her head. “I’ve never heard this name before.”

Ruby shifted anxiously. “Okay, but.. doesn’t Atlas have about a gazillion little outposts and bases? Maybe it’s one of those.”

Blake didn’t reply, save for making a decidedly doubtful noise. She plucked her scroll off her arm, snapping a picture of the list. “Okay, let’s.. let’s go. Distracted already.” She fixed the scroll back to her forearm. “Sorry, I.. shouldn’t have gotten carried away.”

“I mean.. I can’t really blame you, if it’s that weird.” She snorted, “Y’know, along with _everything_ else we’ve seen so far.” She picked up their ‘package’ and they set off again, leaving the data miner to its work.

|***|

Whatever happened to this ship, it looked to have been concentrated more starboard.

The signs of combat didn’t _end_ at Security, unless that was as far as it had gotten, because as soon as they went through the first armored door it was all they found. Scoring and tears splattered across the passageways and compartments, raking its way through the ship.

At least the layout looked to be fairly even. They went through a mirror reflection of broken corridors and the splintered remains of security checkpoints leading them closer to whatever was lighting up the _Juniper_ ’s scanners. From one side of the ship to the other, yet for all the similarities in construction they could not have been more different in the air they exuded. Their walk through the portside compartments felt like a soft, unnerving whisper compared to the raucous display currently being put on for their viewing pleasure.

Yang took the lead, Nora between her and Pyrrha. No one really said anything, not if they didn’t need to. There wasn’t even that underlying urge to try and dispel the cloud of poisonous potentiality smothering them. They were able to move quicker than before, now that the power had been restored. Apart from a few instances of doors being heavily damaged by extreme heat or, in some cases, what must have been excessive force.

Something had sheared through most of the smaller barriers, bending and crumpling the metal.

Still their radar showed only their own signatures, and nothing impeded them.

It didn’t take them very long to reach Observation, and it was not at all what any of them had been expecting. A single sprawling compartment; a canyon of metal and ruin. What might have been an industrial scale laboratory at one point was transformed into a wasteland scene. At its heart, strung up to cables and heavy tethers between huge power conduits, was a round polyhedron. Dense layers of translucent shielding, reinforced with slabs of metal, completely enclosed it.

Only it remained intact. The rest of the compartment looked like a war zone.

Yang swallowed, waving the ship. “Jaune, I think we found.. whatever the hell’s on your sensors. Uhm.. it.. can anyone tell me what I’m looking at?” She swung around, the last vestiges of hope bleeding the light from her eyes.

“No idea.” Pyrrha gripped her rifle tightly, slowly examining the immensity of the wreckage ahead. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“Same,” Nora raised a hand. “Could we, I don’t know, bug out _now_?!” Her voice raised to a shriek, causing Jaune to yelp.

“Nora, please!” Their captain pleaded. “What are you guys seeing?”

Yang put it as bluntly as she could, “Something really bad happened here. Dead reckoned ‘bout that. There’s some big.. I dunno, machine or computer or.. whatever the hell it is, it’s smack in the middle. Only thing left standing.”

“’Only’-” Jaune went quiet for a second. “You’re.. not exaggerating, are you? Is she, guys?”

“I’m afraid not,” Pyrrha sighed.

“God, I wish,” Nora wasn’t sure if she should reach for her hammer, or her torch. Right now she just wanted something at hand that could do some damage if need be. “All I can see is a big shiny ball, and a whole lot of scrap, cap’n.”

“Is it.. this is going to sound stupid,” he grumbled, “It it _doing_ anything?”

“It’s looking really menacing right about now,” Yang scoffed darkly. “Nothing else, far as I can tell.”

Nora was halfway to grabbing her hammer, but on an afterthought pulled out her scanner instead, aiming it toward the object. “I’m getting jack, but that looks like some real heavy duty protection around it,” she informed, dejectedly putting the device away.

“Okay, maybe you guys should head back then,” Jaune said, confidence crumbling. “I can try and get through to the office again, tell them we found something we can’t identify on board. I don’t care if they offload the ship on someone else or what, but as far as I’m concerned this is the final straw. Get out of there quick as you can.”

The comm went quiet, the three women looking at each other with a shared uncertainty.

“Fastest way would be…” Pyrrha started, but couldn’t finish.

Yang stared across the open stretch of the deck, an almost clear shot. They knew where it would lead. Back to the concourse, and then to the hold. The other option was to swing all the way to port again. She was suddenly very relieved her sister wasn’t here, an odd ray of good fortune in the middle of this mess.

“’Kay. Wodderyereckon? You guys ready to run?” She looked over to weigh their responses.

“I’m about to bail like this ship’s fit to blow,” Nora said, already tracing a path to avoid the worst of the devastation.

Pyrrha nodded curtly. “Yes. Before we die, please?” Her usual calm had given way to an almost detached rigidity.

“Plan ‘Don’t Die’ sounds good, Pyr, thanks,” Yang hopped the railing ahead of them, hitting the deck ready to run, but waited just long enough to make sure the other two were keeping pace.

|***|

Ruby and Blake were almost to the med-bay when Jaune came on over the PA.

“The others are disembarking the derelict. Soon as they’re aboard, we’re putting some distance between us and that.. that,” he waffled for a second, as if unsure what descriptor to go with, “That ship,” he murmured eventually.

Blake frowned, her gait faltering for a second. “Did something happen?”

“No, and I want to make sure it stays that way,” Jaune replied.

Blake’s ears twitched, her face a conflicted mask. “Okay.. we’re about to confirm whether our guest is still with us.” She hit the med-bay’s door controls, letting Ruby enter first. The girl laid the body on one of the tables, easing them onto their back.

“Okay.. what do we do now?” She waved her hands out, completely at a loss. This wasn’t her purview in the slightest.

Blake, who had been scanning the available supplies at their disposal, approached the table. “For starters we’re making sure they actually have a pulse. Here, let’s move them a little more.. there, that should work.” She nodded, now that they were in a better position, and powered on the table’s medical scanner. “I don’t _think_ the suit should interfere, but…”

“Better than taking off the helmet in case they’re.. y’know.” Ruby cleared her throat, moving clear of the scanner so her own vitals didn’t interfere with the results.

“Exactly.” Blake watched the UI’s progress bar slowly fill, then disappear as the system displayed a live feed from the figure. Her brow raised. “They’re.. alive.”

Ruby exhaled, an unbidden smile brightening her face. “That’s good.”

“Pulse is very weak.. _all_ the metabolic readings are weak, actually,” the faunus continued. “My guess is the suit’s rigged to put the wearer into stasis. Give them a longer window to be rescued.” She moved around the table, examining the helmet. “Okay, this looks to be the release.” She glanced at Ruby. “Here goes nothing.”

“Yeah,” the girl chuckled nervously, “Fingers crossed.”

Blake unlocked the helmet. A series of mechanical clicks followed, along with a soft hiss as the suit ensured equal pressurization, then.. the seals popped loose. The person’s body started to relax as the periderm returned to its usual malleability, until they were flat atop the table. Under Blake’s instruction, Ruby supported their shoulders while she eased the helmet off to at last reveal the occupant.

Ruby blinked. “Huh.” She was craning her head for a better look – one that wasn’t upside down – when a clatter made her jump. “What was-” She stopped when something bumped her, and looked only to find the helmet resting against her foot. Blake was staring in open shock. “Blake? What’s wrong?” Her eyes darted back to the table, examining the person more closely.

They were a girl – Ruby couldn’t tell _how_ old, but guessed she probably wasn’t much older than herself at least. The girl’s skin was porcelain pale, and she had beautiful white hair. There was a streak of discoloration crossing one eye, which Ruby quickly surmised to be a scar. It looked old though, and nothing else seemed amiss.

Confused, and now a little worried, Ruby looked back at Blake. “Do you.. know her, or something?”

The faunus swallowed, steadily coming out from her stupor. “Not.. exactly.”

Ruby cocked her head. “Uh.. okay? Mind being a _little_ more sp-” She choked on her next breath, stumbling backward into the bulkhead. A splitting, awful ache clutched at her head. Her vision swam; a surreal watercolor corruption contorting the world around her. She was dizzy, couldn’t think. Her hand fumbled for.. something? She was supposed to do something, but it was hard to concentrate. Memory ran like water, drowning her ability to reason. Against the pain, beyond the sensation of falling endlessly that had her tumbling to the deck on unsteady legs, she heard a voice calling out. She did not understand. The words were nonsense, her brain refusing to perceive them correctly. It was garbled noise, ricocheting around in her skull.

A splinter of clarity pierced the awful veil, and she fumbled a hand to her scroll. She needed.. she needed to do…

She felt someone grab her arm – Blake, a small voice echoed through the sliver of perception already on its way to being plugged up. She was slipping again, about to be dragged under, when the suffocating imprisonment suddenly, and mercifully, began to drain away. Not all at once, but to Ruby it was akin to pushing her head above water, able to finally breathe. Everything was blurry, the pulsating pain behind her eyes leaking away little by little until she could call herself ‘aware’ again, even if only just.

Blake still clutched her arm, terror behind gleaming amber.

Ruby shut her eyes tight, groaning and wondering what was up with her hearing. It sounded like a mournful howling was echoing all around. A discordant symphony drilling relentlessly through her eardrums. Realization slapped her, and she sat up fast, fast enough to make her head spin. She wasn’t imagining it. Her mind rebuilt itself; awareness, which had led to confusion, finally gave way to clarity. She only wished it remained a sensory illusion. In actuality, what she heard was a siren. A wailing, dreadful noise that rang throughout the ship.

“No,” she fumbled against the wall, braced her arms, fighting to push up onto to her knees. Her legs felt wobbly, and her head was still fuzzy. “W-We have to-”

“Ruby,” Blake shook her, “Look at me.”

Ruby was still having trouble focusing, but she did as requested, and stared hard at the amber depths boring into her. They shone like pools of molten gold. The imagined heat burned, and she blinked profusely. Color was still off. The light stung, needles dancing in her eyes, and made her wince. A pitiful whine escaped her lips, and for a moment she didn’t even realize she’d made the sound, lost as it was in the siren. Seconds ticked by, her gaze held firmly in a death grip while Blake searched, until she was released at last.

The older woman stood, hurrying for the door. “Stay here, I’ll-”

“What?” Ruby cried. Panic squeezed her heart, pumping blood under pressure until it rushed loud behind her ears. “I- wait, give me.. I only need a second,” the words came out in a pant, heavy and hurried.

Blake stopped, looking back at her with a mixture of concern and distrust.

“I can help!” She attempted to get a foot under her, but nearly toppled over once more for her trouble.

“You can barely stand,” Blake said coolly. “Wait. Here.” She stepped through the door, and it slid shut behind her.

Ruby opened her mouth to object, but grit her teeth instead as she hauled herself upright. She took one step, and her knee gave. She gasped, barely catching herself instead of tumbling right into the medical table. Her fingers gripped the edge tight, holding against the protests of trembling muscles. Her arms felt like gelatin, her fingers didn’t want to cooperate and keep purchase. Panic and anger coursed through her veins, combined with adrenaline for a potent cocktail. This was _not_ the time to flounder, she practically screamed internally. She covered her face with one hand, shielding her eyes as she waited for her strength to return.

Everything clicked into place in the most terrible congruence possible. All the worst fears, the darkest possibilities. The signs she didn’t want to see, or pushed aside as far as she could. Of course this was happening, they’d left reasonable denial behind after seeing Security. Yet still they persisted – still _she_ kept up the act. Playing pretend, in hopes it would become reality. She lowered her hand, eyes slipping to her scroll. A warning trailed along the edges of the screen.

 _Benthon activity detected. Materialization likel_ _ihood: High_ _._ _Caution is advised_ _._

Grimm.

“Wait for it to pass,” she muttered. “Wait.. don’t rush it.” The shock would wane, and she could help. She had to. Her sister – no, _all_ of them were in danger. This wasn’t just about her or her family. She barely knew the rest of the crew, but that didn’t matter. Lives were on the line, and she was not going to sit idle when she knew they needed all the aid available.

As soon as her legs felt more sturdy, Ruby pushed away from the table. Her knees quivered, fit to buckle, forcing her to steady herself on a barren supply trolley. For a split second she entertained the idea of using it like a walker, but fate looked down at her, smiled sweetly, and said: _No_. The wheels weren’t locked, and she nearly went flying as it rolled away from underneath. Ruby stumbled to a recovery bed, slamming her gut in the process. If not for her rig, that might have.. sucked. She breathed deeply, slowly straightened herself, and carefully measured every step to the door. She hit the control, and...

It squawked at her, flashing a red padlock symbol on the screen.

Ruby stared, mouth agape in disbelief. Blake had locked her in. A creeping horror numbed her whole being, siphoning what little strength she’d mustered back into her body, and she stumbled back to the operating tables. Her eyes caught on the girl they’d rescued, still unconscious. The thoughts racing through her mind turned to the prone, lone survivor. What had this girl gone through? That was a dumb question, but only if you weren’t carrying your own scars from running afoul of Grimm manifestations. Not every ‘event’ was the same, the same way every firefight was different. Had the rest of the girl’s crew been dead when she survived? Did she have to watch as they were…

“Shut up, brain. Shut up. _Please_.” She screwed her eyes shut, shoulders and head sagging in defeat. What to do, what to do? The question rolled around incessantly, never ceasing. It was almost hard to actually come up with a plan when the problem proved a relentless, shouting distraction. Pry off the panel, jimmy the circuits? She still had the discharger, if she was _truly_ desperate she could always melt down the door. That was super risky, and even if it was done with good intentions she couldn’t imagine that Jaune would be too thrilled about-

Ruby’s breath hitched. “I’m such an idiot.” She brought up the ship’s comm on her scroll, waving the saddle. “Jaune, I.. I need a hand.”


End file.
